Flashpoint: Talimance
by RedCenturionG
Summary: Snapshots in the life of John Shepard and Tali'Zorah vas Normandy, from friendship to romance, from hardship to happiness, from life to death. Request-based drabbles. Read intro (first chapter) for rules on making requests. Story complete: no longer accepting requests.
1. Introduction and Rules

_Welcome to Flashpoint._

 _This is going to be something unique, and seperate from FABT. A breather, if you will. I was inspired by other one-shots and drabble-based fics I've reread recently (specifically Media Firestorm and Snippets), and thought: why not?_

 _Just like those stories, this will be request-based. You guys give me requests for what you want me to do, and I'll write a chapter based on that concept. You don't need to be ultra specific, but just don't be too broad: nothing like "have Shepard and Tali be romantic". I need specifics. This will largely be fluff, but I'm open to anything really, which includes darkness and angst. And, as you probably guessed, it has to be a Tali/Shepard pairing. It also doesn't have to be romance-specific, and some friendship requests are also acceptable._

 _Now, some ground rules:_

 _First of all, if you're going to suggest smut, NOTHING overtly explicit or disgusting. Any requests of this nature will be ignored. Smut must also supplement a bigger concept, and not be the concept in and of itself (eg. don't go "have Shepard and Tali have sex", have "Shepard and Tali do (insert activity here), that leads to sex")._

 _Secondly, the concept can't be too broad or revolve around a large plot. Keep it simple. A simple event or activity. I WILL NOT be writing FABT level chapters when it comes to word length. Very much under 5,000 words._

 _Thirdly, if I feel that you are requesting something that is OOC (out of character), then I will either a) not do it or request a new concept or b) change the concept to make the character more in character. Keep this in mind._

 _Fourthly, these are drabbles. Short one-shots. With that in mind, remember that my update schedule is not laid out. I'll update where and when I can, but my main focus is still FABT. Please remember that._

 _Fifthly, PLEASE DO NOT MAKE SONG OR POETRY REQUESTS. I am hopeless in this regard, and could not possibly write anything along those lines...Flyin' Migrant Style was a rather embarrassing example of this._

 _Sixthly, while I will accept dark prompts, NO RAPE. No non-consensual prompts. I will crack down on this shit. Anyone who posts such a prompt will have their review deleted and/or blocked from reviewing my stories. I will show no leniency on this. Do not make rape requests. This is my first and only warning._

 _With that said, welcome to the spiritual successor to Snippets by Synweaver. I hope you enjoy it, and we'll see where this goes. With that said, leave your suggestions in the reviews and let's get crackin'!_

 _Keelah Re'lai, troopers!_


	2. Snapshot 1: That Damnable Shirt

_**Well, here you go The Emerald Commander. Its not exactly what you asked for, but the majority of the prompt is intact here. Enjoy.**_

* * *

It had all started with that damn shirt.

Yes, a _shirt_.

It had been a simple day, all things considered...well, as simple as things could be on a ship embarking on a suicide mission. She had been working in engineering, the quarian finding herself right at home when she was tinkering around within the stealth frigate's high-tech contours. She was still finding it a bit hard to believe she was working on a Cerberus vessel, but the crew had been nice enough to her, and Donnelly and Daniels hadn't said a word of criticism regarding her _de facto_ leadership of the engine room. For that, she was thankful. It certainly made her job easier.

Of course, she was only here because of Shepard.

The last few weeks had seen quite the change in Tali, mostly for the better. In the two years since Shepard's death, Tali had never felt so alone. His death had affected her more deeply than she thought, tearing her apart like an emotional maelstrom. A parasite that constantly gnawed away at her emotional core, consuming her in its ubiquitous spread. She had tried everything to move on: seperating herself from her friends, returning to the Migrant Fleet and burying herself in work, dedicating her life to the Fleet...nothing had worked. For the first few weeks, she cried herself to sleep every night. But as the months crawled on, tears turned into nightmares and nightmares into sleeplessness. And all of that before Shepard had admitted his feelings for her.

So when he finally did, only a few weeks ago, the floodgates had come crashing open. The possibilities were now endless: Tali wasn't alone in her feelings anymore. She could finally let him know how she felt without fear of being rejected. Out of all the people he could have chosen, he _chose her._ To say she was both excited, nervous and terrified all at once would be grossly understating how she felt at the moment. As far as she was concerned, she was the happiest woman in the galaxy right now. And the luckiest. The great Commander Shepard, Lion of Elysium, Butcher of Torfan, Survivor of Akuze and Hero of the Citadel...chose a quarian for his girlfriend.

Which is why it was all the more ridiculous that her happiness, her bouts of giddiness, had to be stalled by something as simple as a _shirt_.

She was in his... _their_...cabin, having just finished her shift in engineering. His shift wouldn't be over for at least another half an hour, so she decided to simply open her omni-tool and a play a game of solitaire: it was a human game that Shepard had introduced her to, and she had found herself more than a little addicted to it. She had never been particularly great at card games, but considering her recent loss of a game of poker to Shepard, Donnelly and Daniels, she was eager to get good at it. Solitaire was a good start.

He had arrived half an hour later, just as he had promised. And that's when it happened.

He had walked through the door, wearing his usual attire: a simple black shirt with N7 embroidened on the left breast, with a pair of fatigues held up by a belt buckle. He wore a blue and black cap on his forehead, the logo of the SAMC implanted upon it. His beard was clean shaven to remain within Alliance regulations, despite technically not being in the Alliance military anymore. He had refused to wear the Cerberus officer's uniform provided for him upon getting the _Normandy_ , confiding in Tali and Garrus (pretty much the only people from the original _Normandy_ he could trust implicitly, a fact Tali took great pride in) that he refused to allow Cerberus to dress him in their uniform and 'parade him around like their poster child.' Tali had offered to loan him a grenade for when he chose to blow up Cerberus, and he had jokingly told her 'keep it handy.'

Right off the bat, as Tali turned to him with a warm smile on her face, she knew something was wrong. He was awkwardly batting at his shirt, groaning in annoyance as he held a black steel mug in one hand, piping hot steam wafting from the cup. Tali immediately recognized as 'coffee', a human drink that had apparently taken the galaxy by storm when it was introduced to the community following the First Contact War. And it just happened to be Commander Shepard's preferred poison.

Raising an eyebrow at his rather odd predicament, she stood up from the sofa and ascended the three small steps into the cabin's atrium, "Are you okay, John?"

She liked calling him by his first name. It was a priviledge he had practically enforced upon her, as he felt that it was wrong for her to continue calling him 'Shepard' when they were openly in a relationship. Besides, he insisted that his name sounded good in her voice, something she had been reluctant to object to.

He looked up at her, smiling as her suited form came into view. Her presence seemed to have that calming effect on him, something she had never failed to take notice of, "Nah...its fine, Tali. Just split my coffee all over my shirt. Its stupid. I'll...I'll just go get changed."

And just like that, he placed the half empty cup of coffee on the edge of his desk, reached up under his shirt, and pulled it off. He crumbled it into a ball and tossed it aside, allowing Tali a full, unobstructed view of his well defined chest. Shepard was by no means a monster when it came to muscles, but being an N7 and someone who liked to exercise constantly, he had enough to make any woman drool at the sight of him. Most of the time, Tali would be doing just that, biting back her urge to reach forward and explore his abdomen, with her three-fingered hands tracing along the lines of muscle rippling his chest.

But this time, she found, for some stupid reason, that all she could focus on was just how easily and carelessly Shepard had exposed himself. He tore his shirt off and tossed it away, as if it was a non-issue. He simply plucked another one from his wardrobe, letting it fall past his neck and wrap neatly around his torso, stealing her view of his chest away from her. It had been done with such ease...so non-chalantly. It was a simple act, but it resonated within her.

The thought hit her mind before she could stop it. _I wish I could take off my suit that easily._

"Tali?" John's thoughts penetrated the cloud in her mind, causing her to violently cast them aside as she refocused on reality, finding his eyes gazing into hers as he continued to smile, believing he had found her oggling him again, "Am I really that distracting?"

 _No, not at all. Unless you count flaunting your freedom infront of me 'distracting', of course._

She meekly shook her head, slowly turning to walk back down the stairs, suddenly unable to face him. Her mind raced through a million different thoughts, but found that one was now nagging at her, refusing to withdraw until its underlying purpose was fullfilled. She suddenly became very self-aware, realizing just how stupid she had been.

 _I'm wearing a suit. I can't so much as show off a fragment of skin or I could die. A single kiss could put me in the hospital. I can't eat or drink without it first being sterilized. And yet this human, this hero, wants to waste his time with a quarian whose face he can't even see and whose skin he can't even touch. He deserves to be with someone who can fullfill him. Besides, how could he possibly understand what it's like to be a quarian? He doesn't understand the struggle. He can remove his clothing without a problem. He doesn't have to worry about dying by simply removing a shirt. A single, damn_ _ **shirt**_ _._

"Tali?" his tone was less playful this time around, concern laced throughout his voice. She ignored him, plopping herself down on the couch as she dropped her hands into her lap, fingers interlacing and twisting together nervously. She felt a stray tear fall down her cheek before she could control herself, eyes beginning to water up painfully, the salty liquid stinging her eyelids. Of course, Shepard couldn't see that because of her stupid, opaque mask, her building sorrow hidden carefully away, allowing her to bask in her own misery, her commander entirely oblivious. _Its not...fair..._

A shadow fell over her, but she didn't look up. The couch indented on her right as Shepard placed himself next to her. To his credit, he didn't wrap his arm around her like she had expected him to, apparently having realized that something was wrong but knowing enough to restrict himself until he knew she was ready.

He cleared his throat quietly, clearly confused as to what had gone wrong. Tali felt for him: after all, it wasn't his fault. Well, technically it was because he was the source of her doubt, but at the same time, he wasn't at fault because he hadn't known what he was doing to her, "What's wrong? Was it something I said?"

She lifted her head from aimlessly staring at her lap, finally garnering enough courage to look him in the eyes, "I...k-know, its...its...not your fault. John...I'm sorry. But this...we can't..."

He nodded in confirmation, sighing as he removed his cap, placing it gently next to him, but he never so much as took his eyes off of her. He adopted a serious tone as he cautiously placed a hand on her thigh, testing the waters. She allowed it, secretly closing her eyes and relishing the feel of his warm hand through the suit. How she wished it could be touching her actual skin. For now however, the gesture was comforting. It was already beginning to make her feel slightly better, although not by much.

"We can't what, Tali?" he asked, sounding very worried now, "You can tell me."

"My suit," she blurted out, taking him by surprise with her immediate, sudden response, "Watching you take off that shirt like it was nothing...it made me realize something. I can never give you what you want. You get a coffee stain on your shirt and you can simply switch it for another one. No problem for you. But if that was to happen to my suit...I'd have to bear with it, or hope my _realk_ is the one that gets stained...at least I can remove _that_."

"And?" he asked, frowning at her, "And you getting a stained suit means you can't give me what I want?"

"Yes!" she nearly shouted, finding herself pivoting on the couch to face him, "I'm..." she waved her hands down her form, indicating to him that he was referring to her suit, "...trapped! I'll never be able to leave this suit no matter how much I want to...and you deserve more than that. More than what I can give you. I was being stupid and selfish to ever suggest we could...have something more. You shouldn't feel guilt-tripped into being with me," more tears travelled down her cheek, and she fought back the urge to sob.

 _This is the for the best._

Before she could say anything else, he...began to _laugh_.

That surprised her. _How...how could he be_ _ **laughing**_ _? Is this just a joke to him? How could he possibly find this funny?_

She waited for him to finish laughing, glaring at him with incredulosity. Suddenly however, and to her shock, he reached up and grasped her shoulders sturdily. Her tears stopped flowing as he fixed her with a firm gaze, all mirth gone from his face as he seemed to study her astutely. All she could do was meet his warm, welcoming blue stare, finding herself sinking away into his sweet gaze. She quickly paid full attention to him, finding herself unable to turn away.

"Tali, that is the most _ridiculous_ reason for self doubt I've _ever heard_ ," he stated, John fading away to be replaced temporarily by Commander Shepard, her human captain, "I don't care that you're stuck in a suit. What, do you think I haven't noticed you were in a suit? Do you think I'm stupid?"

She opened her lips to mouth a response, but her voice and mind yielded none. She stuttered for a moment, trying to form a proper, coherent sentence, "Well I...no, I don't think you're stupid, I-I just..."

One of his hands was rubbing her arm, causing her shuddering to crawl to a stop, although she didn't know if he had been doing it intentionally, or if it was something more subconscious, "Then why, Tali? Why this sudden doubt? I laughed because of all the things to make you question where you stand, it had to be taking my _shirt off._ Do you honestly think I'd be with you if I was looking for someone I just wanted to have sex with?"

Well, at least he was blatant about it. He certainly held nothing back. Such was the propensity of the statement that she couldn't even stutter a word of retaliation, simply sitting there pathetically as she listened to him berate her.

"I want to be with you because I care about you. Because I feel the same about you," the hand rubbing her shoulder lifted, cupping her cheek gently. Despite herself, her self-restraint slipped just enough for her to lean into the gesture, nudging his hand as she seemingly tried to dive into the warmth radiating off of it, "Do I really seem the kind of person to be pathetic enough to be with you out of guilt? Do you really think so low of me that its easy for you to believe that bullshit?"

"I..." she knew this was an argument she couldn't win. She'd dug her own grave, as the human saying went, and now she had to lie in it. No response she tried to form was good enough, her analytical mind picking them apart before she could even think of wording them. In the end, her shoulders slumped, letting John know he had won. But it hardly felt like a victory, "...no. Of course. You're the most wonderful, caring man I've ever known. And...well, I just want you to be happy..."

He smiled, hand on her cheek reaching around to gently stroke the back of her hood, Tali letting out a low coo at the commiseration, leaning forward slightly as she desperately wanted to give into his assurances. Luckily for her, he didn't give her much of a choice, taking note of her movement and calmly and tenderly bringing her into his arms. She surrendered willfully, and he tucked her head against his chest, arms wrapping around her and holding her benignly.

He continued to idly stroke her hood, whispering sweet certitudes into her auditory emulators as he simply held her, letting the silence between them do the talking. A few minutes must have passed, but they felt like hours that they just cuddled. After a while, he stopped whispering altogether, respecting her need for quiet. She had closed her eyes, simply listening to his steady heartbeat thumping through his chest, the feeling like miniature tapping. The sound made her tired, and she swore she could have fallen asleep here, all tucked up against his chest, nothing but the sound of his heartbeat and light breathing to sustain her.

Suddenly, John spoke, Commander Shepard put to sleep as the man she loved emerged, cradling her as if he was afraid letting her go would cause her to disappear, his voice soft and polite, " _You_ make me happy...that's why I chose you. Not Ashley. Not Liara. Not Miranda. You. I've only ever loved you, Tali. I'm...just glad to know you feel the same."

She tugged at his new shirt, this one a cobalt blue Alliance themed tee, with one of her fingers, smoothing her palm over the soft material. She took a deep breath, eyes still closed, before opening them, rolling herself over so she could place her head in his lap, looking up at him while her body was oriented away from him. She folded her hands in her lap, letting a low smile crease her lips, "I...I know. Thank you, John...I was being so stupid. I just...keelah, I _hate_ this suit." She picked at one of her suit straps, emphasizing her point.

To her surprise, John didn't answer immediately, cocking his head at her. He opened his mouth, but closed it again as he thought through what he was going to say. A few seconds later, after he had composed himself, he spoke again, "Tali...tell me about your suit."

Now _that_ caught her attention. She simply hadn't expected him to ask such an out-of-the-blue question, "My...my suit? W-what d-d-do you mean?" She wished she could stop stuttering, but the question had come completely out of left field.

He shrugged, a small smile licking at the right side of his mouth, "I guess...it just seems like your society places a lot of emphasis on your suits. When we were at the Migrant Fleet to help with your trial, I noticed Shala'Raan mentioned placing your children in environmental bubbles...that you only got your suits when you're of adolesence."

The quarian in his arms continued to fiddle with one of the straps on her suit, finding herself frowning underneath her mask as she considered her next words carefully, "The suits...they practically _are_ us. Our suits are like a second skin...in the three hundred years we've been wearing them, I don't think my generation or the generation before me could remember a time where we haven't worn them."

"That...sounds sad," John mumbled, fixing her with a somewhat melancholic stare, "I mean...it sounds like your lives are pretty much defined by them. You make it seem like you're nothing without it."

That just caused Tali to laugh slightly, although she found no humor in what he said, her only amusement stemming from the bitter truth of what he said, "Because we're not. If I take off this suit, even for a bit, I'll die. Everything that you take for granted...touching flowers with bare fingers, kissing someone you love, eating something without having to sterilize it, feel another's body pressed against yours...I can't do that. Everything I do has to be..." she held up her hands in the air, sighing wistfully, "...within this. My _prison_ , my _sanctuary_."

"Its also keeping you alive," he pointed out, squeezing her arms ever so carefully.

"But can't you see why I can't be with you?" the quarian whimpered, feeling her chest tighten once more as she felt tears begin to form in her eyes once more, stinging them with their presence, "This suit...it will always be between us. The only way for us to be together...its...keelah, its _risky_. I could get sick, and _jeopardize_ the mission. A single kiss and I could be in the infirmary for the rest of the mission."

A stray finger ghosted across her visor, before landing on her left cheek, cupping it upside down as he craned her head to look up at him. He spoke, his tone a gentle caress that could have lulled her to sleep on its existence alone, "...but there _is_ a way?"

She slowly nodded, gulping, "I...I can speak with Mordin...get some herbal supplements, antibiotics and antihistamines that...could temporarily bolster my immune system. It would...allow me to _be_ with you...no suit. But I would still get sick. How sick, I don't know..."

He frowned, although it looked to be more out of concern for her wellbeing than frustration, "That sounds awfully risky. Are you sure you want that? I wouldn't mind if we...just had this. I don't care about your damn suit. If it meant I wasn't jeopardizing your health or your safety, then I would gladly set aside my-"

Tali just scoffed, waving a dismissive hand, "Keelah John, you think I'm doing _all of this_ just for you?" she reached up, her gloved palm grazing past his naked cheek and causing him to hum pleasantly. She smiled warmly, glad she could impart some comfort upon him just from a simple touch, "I...want this to be real. I don't want some stupid nerve stim program. I want to feel your skin on mine...and if I have to risk sickness for that, I will. I just don't know if you-"

A finger landed on her vocalizer, and she fell quiet. She knew he couldn't actually silence her through that method, but it was the principle that counted, "Tali, you know me. I want to be with you. If this is what you want...I'll wait as long as I need to. I may not understand what its like to live your whole life in a suit, but if I can help you explore all that you've been missing, then I will. All those things I take for granted? I want you to have that. I want to see your face...and that's something well worth fighting for, and waiting for."

 _Keelah..._ _ **now**_ _I remember why I love this man._

 _What was I afraid of again?_

He chuckled slightly, a grin gracing his lips, "But when the time comes, please don't ask me to make a sculpture out of my...well, main gun."

It took her a few seconds for her _innocent_ mind to figure out exactly what he meant.

There was a gasp, followed by a loud slapping sound as John shouted.

"Ow!"

"You _bosh'tet_!"

 _...but he can also be insufferable sometimes!_

* * *

 _ **Well, its not the best thing ever, but I'm hoping to get better as we go along. I'm not great at this one-shot thing, but I'm definitely liking it thus far. Feels thoroughly less stressful. I fullfilled your request to the best of my ability Emerald Commander. I hope you enjoyed what I wrote. :)**_


	3. Snapshot 2: Mako Down

_**This one is for an unnamed guest. I don't know if this was inspired by Noveria Heat or not, but either way I chose to go down a different route than that story. So enjoy!**_

* * *

On a lone planet, in a lone star system, in a little tiny corner of a galaxy known as the Milky Way, a war brewed. A war for all life as they knew it, even though they didn't know that yet. A war between a rogue Spectre agent and the first human Spectre. A war that was small in execution, but great in scope. Only one man could save the galaxy from its ostensible annihilation. Only one man stepped up to the plate. His name was Commander Shepard.

But right now, he couldn't even save a M35 Mako.

"Bosh'tet!" a quarian, a young pilgrim, cursed at his side, giving up as she slammed her dainty little fingers against the console infront of her, completely fed up, "Its no good! That siege pulse fried the entire engine!"

He sighed, feeling his helmeted head lean against his hand in exasperation. They had gotten themselves into...quite...the situation. It had been a simple mission: Admiral Hackett had informed the _Normandy_ of a geth presence in the Armstrong cluster, and they'd been sent to clear out the pockets of geth resistance in that area before they could establish any permanent base of operations. Simple enough: they had racked up quite the body count when it came to geth, so his squad were no strangers to battling the relentless synthetics.

They had gone from world to world, taking out outpost after outpost. He had only taken one squadmate with him for each battle, given that most of it was conducted within the M35 Mako, their infantry fighting vehicle equipped with a multi-role anti-infantry/anti-vehicle weapon. If it wasn't for the vehicle's poor handling, Shepard may have just liked it: its firepower made it a powerhouse, its heavy machine gun tearing through geth troopers like they were cardboard, while the main cannon hit geth primes and armatures like they were shattering glass. Suffice to say, it had more than enough punch to bring the geth to their knees.

Now they had deployed on Rayingri, supposedly the last of the geth outposts, and it was Tali's turn to assist him. He knew her tech abilities were second to none on his squad, which made her a no brainer to bring along. They had gotten off to a good start, all things considered.

Until they came across the first geth armature.

It had been his standard _modus operandi_ to use the Mako's full frontal armor to ram the geth, pinning it to the ground temporarily before reversing and using the main gun to finish it off. It was a good tactic that worked most of the time, but either the geth were learning or this one had gotten lucky. More like, _struck gold._

Instead of using its machine gun to pepper them first like it usually did, the armature had elected to charge up and fire its siege pulse instead. Normally, this wouldn't be a problem, as the Mako's kinetic barriers could absorb the impact of at least two siege pulse blasts before being breached.

However, the Mako had been rather unfortunate in that it had been cresting a hill when the pulse hit...right when its belly was completely exposed.

And where the barriers were weakest.

The Mako had dropped like a rock, its shock absorbers taking the brunt of the impact as it landed back on its six wheels like a sack of bricks impacting concrete: Shepard and Tali's bodies jerked and trembled underneath their armor and suit respectively as they were temporarily jostled around, before finally coming to rest. The nature of the damage wasn't even completely aware to them at first, Shepard simply manning the gun and putting the armature down before it could take full advantage of its opportunity.

They had only noticed an issue when Shepard hit the acellerator, only to hear a violent cough and deathly silence screech in response. He had immediately abandoned that idea.

And thus Tali had quickly run her systems diagnostic, only to announce what they already knew: the Mako was dead in the water.

 _Fantastic_.

He quickly reached up and pulled down the vehicle's built-in comms system, hailing the _Normandy_. He tried once, twice, even three times...each time resulted in the same loud _beep_ , a red blinking light flaring at him as if to chastize him for his multiple attempts at a failed escape strategy.

 _Great, so we must be in range of the geth outpost. And they have a signal jammer, which means we can't call for help. This is just getting better and better._

Tali leaned back, hands folding in her lap as she began to wring them, her nervous posture taking shape, "Shepard...what do we do?"

He sighed, leaning back in his seat as he stared at the primary console infront of him. Data assaulted his retinas, but he didn't acknowledge any of it. He knew what it meant: the Mako's primary engine was toast, meaning it would need at least a couple of days worth of repairs before it was operational again, and the main comms system for the vehicle was being actively jammed by the geth, which left them with no way to contact the _Normandy_ in orbit. They were stuck with two options.

Wait here, or proceed on foot. Just the two of them. Against an entire geth outpost. He didn't particularly like their odds in that situation.

Nope, it looked like they were stuck here until they could receive backup. Not an idea with a ton of merit, but it seemed they had no other options.

He turned to the quarian at his side, shrugging his armoured shoulders, "We're not going anywhere with the Mako anytime soon, and we can't contact the _Normandy_. We're just going to have to wait it out."

The quarian's eyes turned into slits behind her visor, cocking her head. Her hands stopped their movement, a trait he found adorable but never brought up with the young pilgrim, "You mean...just sit here?"

He nodded, standing up as he headed towards the back compartment of the vehicle, grunting as his armor creaked with the strain, the human having to bend over tightly due to the incredibly low ceiling of the tank's interior. He squeezed past Tali's seat, before reaching up to flick a switch on the ceiling. A light lit up the darkened compartment, the black and blue of the bulkheads becoming more apparent with the new lighting. He sighed as he sunk himself into one of the seats at the back usually reserved for infantry, unholstering his rifle before letting it rest on his lap.

He turned to her, noticing she had twisted in her seat to watch him. He met her eyes, finding himself able to sink his gaze past the smoky exterior of her mask and, for the briefest of moments, imagining her face looking at him with a frown of dubiousness. Unable to picture what she looked like, he amusingly pictured her with a human face. Somehow that made it easier to imagine her shock at his attitude, "Yep, we just sit here. Unless you can fix this vehicle?"

Tali groaned, twisting back around in her seat as she crossed her arms angrily, sinking into her seat, "Well...if I had Garrus and some extra resources, I could easily get the engine running at least..."

He smiled, wiping the expression as he removed his helmet and sat it next to him, sinking back into the uncomfortable seat he sat upon. His back ached from the crooked position he had adopted, so instead he sat back up, groaning in annoyance as grabbed his rifle and stood it up, hugging it between his armoured legs, "And we're short on both. So I guess we're stuck."

"Keelah, must we just... _sit_ here!?" the quarian cried out petulantly, kicking a foot against the console infront of her, "I feel like we should be...should be...damn it, something! We should be doing _something_!"

He chuckled, despite knowing that what the quarian needed was reassurance, not him laughing in the face of their stranding, "I'm open to ideas, Tali."

He looked at her, raising a single eyebrow as he crossed his arms, cocking his head at her comically as he awaited an answer.

She turned to him slightly, head dipped, before mumbling her response, sighing.

He nodded, turning back to the wall across from him as he began to whistle. A single tune popped into his head, his lips pursing as his voice echoed the musical note that his mind had already conjured up. He closed his eyes as the tune filled the compartment, boot idly tapping.

A few moments passed as he heard a shuffling nearby. He ignored it for the moment, escaping inside his own little world as he tried to think of anything but their current quandary.

Then Tali's soft voice broke his thoughts, as it always seemed to do when she spoke, "That's a nice tune."

He pried his eyes open, finding Tali now sitting directly across from him, having sat down opposite him. Her arched back and backward-facing legs made it an awkward fit for her to sit in the seats designed for human marines to sit in, but she made the most of it. Her hands rested firmly in her lap, soft blue eyes regarding his with a cool, but calming, respite.

 _Such a nice voice...and eyes...those damn eyes..._

Having forgotten himself, he pushed those musings to the back of his head as he smiled, scratching his cheek as he purged a growing itch, "Yeah."

She lowered her head slightly, as if not knowing where to go. She seemed a bit flustered, the situation they were in likely terrifying her as the realization grew on her that they may be stuck here for a while. And as her Commander, he needed to keep up morale. And most of all, he felt a need to reassure her. A need that went beyond the usual military obligation to one's troops. In the brief time he had known her, barely a month and a half, he had listened to her tell tales of her life in the Migrant Fleet, what the geth did to her people, and how society worked among the quarian people. They spent entire nights just sitting down in engineering during the late night shift, when the rest of the engineering crew had retired to their bunks and the room was manned by a skeleton crew, just talking. He'd bring down his dinner and she'd nurse a nutrient paste while they sat side by side.

She wasn't just a soldier under his command. She was a friend. Someone he felt responsible for.

Seeing her nervous movement, he elaborated, shifting in his seat as he leaned forward, uncrossing his arms and resting them on his legs, "Its a little tune I heard my gunnery sergeant humming back during boot camp. He used to do it when he thought his platoon wasn't listening...heard it often enough that it became trapped in my head. Been humming it ever since...helps me release stress."

Tali gave a light titter, shaking her head, "Of all the things...you whistle to relieve your stress? To make yourself feel better?"

He fixed her with a gentle stare, before laughing, "Yeah...I whistle. Your great and dashing Commander, your savior...and he whistles. I hope I haven't killed anymore of your impressions of me?"

This only caused the quarian to giggle a little more, a hand reaching up to her visor as she rested her helmet on the small, three-fingered hand, "Well, you're still dashing..."

She froze. He froze. They looked at each other. They both blinked, realizing what she had said.

They both turned away at the same moment, Shepard's cheeks flushing slightly, although he tried his best to hide it. Tali stuttered, noticing the red rushing to his cheeks, "I-I did-didn't...I didn't mean it that way...I mean, I did, but not in the way you think. I mean that you're very handso-...oh keelah, that's worse. I mean, objectively speaking, you're a perfect human male...damn it...I...um...oh keelah..."

He turned to her, barely holding back a warm smile at her stuttering. _Good grief, could she be anymore adorable?_

He reached out without thinking, placing a hand on her thigh, causing her to stop immediately as she gauged this new development. Despite knowing what he was doing was a bit presumptuous, he held his appendage there for a few moments, five fingers grasping her leg as he smirked calmingly at her, "Its okay, Tali. I know what you meant. I'm irresistable. You and every other woman has probably told me that at this point."

She nodded, barely choking out an answer, "Yeah...I guess..."

It didn't take a genius for him to realize what was making her uncomfortable, so he pulled his hand back, releasing his grip on her leg and leaning back.

He could have sworn he saw her sag slightly as he pulled away...almost as if she hadn't wanted him to retract his hand.

He tossed that thought aside. _She's just worried. Come to think of it...we should probably get ontop of that and do something._

Desperate to find a way to disspell the awkward atmosphere that was now beginning to hang over the two of them, he cleared his throat, the sudden sound causing Tali to visibly jump in her seat. Having her attention, he motioned to the hatch, grabbing his rifle, "Get your shotgun out. We're walking."

She seemed puzzled at that, but wordlessly followed his orders, pulling out her shotgun from the small of her back. As she stood up though, she turned to him, finding herself needing to ask a question that had gone unasked, "What are we doing, Shepard? We're not going to walk to the outpost, are we? We don't have the firepower."

He shook his head, grabbing onto one of the ceiling handles to pull himself up as he gripped his rifle in his opposite hand, "Nope, but we are going to walk in the opposite direction, see if we can get out of range of the geth's jamming signal so we can call for pickup. See if we can't just bomb the damn thing from orbit."

As he reached for the hatch to pry it open, the quarian behind him started, rubbing her helmeted chin, "Wait...if we could do that the whole time, then why didn't we?"

"Do what?"

"Bomb it from orbit."

He turned to her, a response prepared on his lips.

Until he realized he had none.

"Ahhh...well you see..." he grasped for a logical solution to the quarian's query, but quickly concluded that he really didn't have one, "You know what, that's a very good point."

"Keelah..." she sighed, chuckling slightly to herself, "So this entire endeavour was a waste of time?"

"Probably," he grinned mischeviously, hitting the button for the hatch to snap open. It shot open like a pair of scissors, the hatch pulled upwards. A blast of heat slammed into him, warming him through his armor instantly. He gritted his teeth through the barren temperature and jumped out, landing moments later with his rifle primed against his shoulder. Tali wasn't far behind, her quarian legs flexing as she landed in a spring-like stance, before rearing her shotgun. He turned to her, still grinning as he slotted his helmet back over his face, the clasps clipping back into place as the heat now battered the protective covering instead of his face, "But then we wouldn't have had the chance for this team-building exercise!"

Tali just snorted, shaking her head incredulously, "And what an exercise its been, Shepard! I've learnt how-not to get stuck on a planet, and the fact that my human commander whistles to relieve his stress."

He sighed exaggeratively, tsking with dramatic flair as he pretended to be annoyed, "Is it really so hard to believe that your Commander can whistle?"

"Well...no," she said genuinely, "Although I'm not sure how you do it."

"You don't know how to whistle?" he asked, the two of them beginning a gradual pace as they headed up towards a hill, in the opposite direction to the geth outpost they were supposed to be neutralizing. Hopefully they'd find it soon, because this heat was quite intense, the red sky of Rayingri looking almost bloody in coloration.

"Should I?" she asked quizically.

He stopped for a moment, turning towards her as he wiggled his eyebrows, "Give it your best shot."

She almost ran into him, not expecting him to stop so suddenly. Startled by his larger form suddenly being stationary infront of her, she almost leapt back, before reganining her composure and straightening, one eyebrow raised behind her visor, "What?"

He shrugged, leaning on one hip as he waited, "Go ahead. I promise I won't laugh."

"I don't even know how to!"

He pressed his lips together, letting out a shrill keen as an example, "Just like that. Wet your lips and pucker them. Open your mouth slightly, press your tongue on the roof of your mouth. And then...well, just blow whatever air you can out of your mouth while keeping it relatively closed," he whistled again as an example. He turned to her expectantly, the quarian looking unsure of herself, "Go on...you can do it. Give it a try."

She sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat, before she gave in. A few moments passed as she likely performed his preparatory procedures behind the safety of her visor. A moment later, and a low mewl came from her vocalizer, so low he could barely hear it.

He frowned.

Noticing this, she tried again. This time, much louder. The sound was like a strangled cat gasping on its last breath: nowhere near the melodic tune he had managed to replicate with his own lips.

And despite his promise...he laughed. No, he _wheezed_.

"Bosh'tet," she whimpered, rubbing her thigh awkwardly as he imagined her cheeks flushing with embarassment, "You promised you wouldn't laugh..."

"I know. But...but I...oh jesus..." he continued to dry heeve as laughter wracked his frame, squeezing his lungs as every iota of oxygen within them was swept out to accomodate his mirth. Every laugh brought on a new gasp for air, yet he couldn't, and wouldn't, stop. He just kept laughing, eyes firmly shut as he continued to guffaw, "That...the sound you made...it sounded like...it was...oh my _god_...!"

"I..." she began, but quickly shook off her response, realizing her human commander was a lost cause. Commander Shepard, first human Spectre, was currently too lost in his laughter to really pay attention, "...keelah, you're insufferable. All you do is make fun of me for trying to whistle, which _you_ suggested by the way."

Finally bringing his laughter under control, he slapped his thigh before composing himself, the only thing remaining behind his broad smile. He noticed Tali wither slightly from her anger as she saw it, although he didn't really pay much attention to the action, "I'm sorry, Tali. Its just...that...what you did was...really cute."

"Well...um..." she stumbled for a clever retort, but found that she was completely clueless.

"Come on," he muttered, shaking his head as he turned back to crest the hill, "We should probably get going. _Normandy_ 's probably wondering where we got off to."

He heard Tali follow behind him, the crunch and squelch of her boots on the crusty planetary floor indicating her quiet ascent, "Lead the way, Shepard."

* * *

 _ **I'm actually happier with how this one-shot turned out than the last one. I don't know the name of the person who suggested this, but you know who you are, so here you go. I hope you enjoyed it. :)**_

 _ **Keelah Re'lai, troopers!**_


	4. Snapshot 3: Dismiss THIS Claim

_**This one is for the guest Harvey Dent. Due to how you worded your request, it was a bit difficult to ascertain exactly what you wanted from this, but I think I managed to put together something to your liking. Enjoy!**_

* * *

There were a plethora of things that changed throughout the course of the Reaper War, and just their exploits against the Reapers in general, but it seemed the Council Chambers, and on a greater scale the Citadel itself, never changed at all. The serenity, the peace of mind, the total tranquility the station represented...it seemed nothing could snuff that out. It remained a steadfast reminder of what the galaxy once was, and what it could still be when this was all over.

Very few quarians had ever had the priviledge to even enter the Council Chambers. Three hundred years ago and before, Tali imagined many quarians had walked through these chambers, soaking up the feeling of safety and order those chambers represented. But in the centuries following the Morning War, the sight of a quarian here was astonishing, if not unheard of.

But Admiral Tali'Zorah vas Normandy was a special case.

It wasn't like this was her first time being here. She had been present when John had provided her evidence before the Council, the same evidence that then led to Saren Arterius, one of the Council's greatest agents, being labelled a traitor. She had felt immense awe and pride in that moment, knowing that just moments before she had been fearing for her life, running from a dangerous operative who would stop at nothing to keep her silent, only to suddenly find herself in the employ of a human naval commander. Her life had changed significantly that day.

For the better, she would always think.

Perhaps this was her first time entering the Council Chambers...as a new woman. Tali'Zorah nar Rayya and Tali'Zorah vas Normandy weren't the same people...not really. That girl had been naive, scared and barely able to hold herself together. She had been filled with hopes and aspirations, and had foolishly believed the propaganda her people had fed to her about the geth. She had the shadow of her father looming over her, dictating how she lived her life. It had made her feel small, insignificant.

But being on Shepard's team changed her in ways she couldn't have possibly thought possible. In two years, she had become a seasoned military combatant, an expert combat engineer and a confident, strong woman: strong enough that she had finally admitted her feelings to the man she had thought dead for years, and to be rewarded with reciprocation of those feelings. And now she was an admiral, a position she never thought she'd reach.

No, this was her first time here. As a completely different person.

As she confidently strode through the Council Chambers towards the podium at the back, she turned to acknowledge the other two people currently accompanying her, one of them walking infront of her in onyx black armor with the crimson red stripes of an N7, while the turian beside her just wore his usual cobalt blue attire.

Shepard and Garrus were her best friends. Not just that...she considered them to be like family. Garrus, while an insufferable turian sometimes, treated her like a little sister, and she watched his back in kind during battle, the close-quarters nature of her shotgun and tech skills making her an excellent compliment to his long-range marksmanship. And both of them would follow Shepard into hell and back, even if it risked potential death. He considered them his most loyal friends...they had his back when nobody else did. They weren't just a team. They were far more than that.

And for Shepard and Tali...well...they were soulmates.

As they walked, she made sure to reach over and squeeze his hand, her smaller three-fingered appendage interlocking with his larger, five-fingered hand reassuringly. He spared her a quick smile, but it carried all the warmth she needed to sustain herself. She smiled back, even though he couldn't see it, and released his hand, letting it fall back into the back and forth motion of her strolling as they continued to walk to their destination.

The three of them were going to fight the one enemy they couldn't kill or defeat with bullets. The Citadel Council.

It was probably a bit unfair to call them 'an enemy', as they were officially supposed to be allies. But considering just how many times the galaxy had nearly been doomed due to their stupidity and arrogance (and in all honesty, the current state of the war effort was partly, if not entirely, the Council's fault in the first place), one had to wonder if they were truly the 'allies' they were marketting them as. Certainly didn't seem like it.

They had recently returned from the war on Rannoch and had been summoned to provide a debrief of what happened. Overall, they had all been lucky in the end result: the quarians and the geth made peace and joined forces, joining the galaxy's united effort in fighting the Reapers and, mostly importantly of all, lending their respective scientists and engineers to help construct the Crucible: the doomsday weapon designed to end the Reapers once and for all. Tali had been giddy for days afterwards, hardly believing it all: she finally had a place to call home, and when this war was over, she planned to retire there and build a house.

Well, Shepard would build her the house. Or so he promised.

Unfortunately, their joy had been put on pause when the Council had practically _demanded_ an audience with Shepard. Apparently they weren't too 'thrilled' with the quarians going to war with the geth in the first place, and despite the peace reached between them, they were quite adamant about getting answers...answers that apparently Shepard and Shepard only had.

 _I mean, they aren't wrong...invading geth space while we're in the middle of a war with the Reapers was a pretty stupid idea...but at least it ended peacefully. Why continue to focus on something that's already happened? Its not like the aftermath could have ended any better, honestly._

But, the Council was the Council. And Shepard was a Spectre. He was duty bound to answer to them.

Shepard and Tali were both creatures of duty and patriotism. They would lay down their lives for their people, they were uncompromising in their beliefs, and they were an immovable force when their minds were made up. Duty always came first, and even if they hated what it made them do, they did it anyway. That's just who they were. And it just made Tali love him even more.

The Council was already in session when they arrived, so they had to wait patiently at the bottom of the steps. As usual, Valern was positioned on the far right, while Tevos was in the middle and Sparatus on the far left: a symbol of the power play. The asari were essentially the leaders of the galaxy and the most advanced species, so of course they were in the middle. All three of them stood tall and proud, backs straightened and hands clasped behind their backs as they silently nodded and provided curt replies to the enquiries brought before them. But all of them looked more tired than usual, like the meetings themselves were so numerous and so lengthy that they were physically draining them of energy, sapping them for all they were worth.

The Council was in constant session during the Reaper War. That probably explained why they looked like they hadn't had much sleep. Any of them.

Once their latest session concluded, which seemed to have been over krogan territorial rights if the krogan that was leaving with a tight smile was any indication, Shepard ascended to the podium, Tali and Garrus not far behind him. They stopped just a few inches behind where he did: right at the front of the extended bridge, where the Council stood posed over them, like royalty imposing judgment on the lesser subjects below them.

Shepard's hands clasped behind his back as he straightened it, fixing his eyes directly on Tevos, as she was the center of the political trio. Tali and Garrus just maintained silent vigilance behind him, hands at their sides as they let their presence do the talking.

Tevos' voice was tired and broken, sounding like the croaky rasp of someone who was borderline losing their voice, her omni-tool voice amplifier likely the only reason anyone could hear her to begin with, "Commander Shepard, you've been brought here today to discuss the recent war between the quarians and the geth. As we come to understand it, you've ended a war that was three centuries in the making. An admirable achievement."

Valern nodded, but his arms crossed, "First the genophage, now this. Are you quite finished rewriting history?"

Shepard was quick, hitting back with an acerbic viscosity that he always seemed to be able to pull off: almost like he had the answers to every question on standby, ready and rearing to go, "I'll rewrite it as often as possible, councilor, especially if it ends with everybody happy. And from what I've heard, curing the genophage has seen quite the appreciation back on Mannovai. I hear the krogan are helping reinforce the planet. Funny how old greviances are forgotten when you let a little forgiveness in. After all, it was a _salarian_ who cured it."

"Indeed," Valern replied curtly. He did not elaborate any further. Being former STG, he had more reason than most to disapprove of the genophage being cured, but obviously he wasn't going to make a big speel of it.

"The genophage, however, is not the purpose of this meeting," Sparatus piped up, shooting a noticeable glare in Tali's direction, "The rather reckless actions of the Migrant Fleet, however, _are_. We thought you might be able to shed some light on this issue."

Shepard shrugged non-chalantly, "Admittedly, the quarians were rather foolish in instigating a war with the geth, but that's in the past. What matters is the war is now over and the geth and quarians are enjoying the first days of peace between their peoples. Their focus will now be united and pointed at the Reapers. Seems like a massive win for the galaxy at large."

"Perhaps," Sparatus drawled, clearly not satisfied with the answer as his glare turned to Shepard, "We, however, at the Council know all about rash decisions. We made the same mistake with uplifting the krogan and attacking your exploration teams at Relay 314 without warning or provocation. Such reckless actions cost thousands, if not millions, of lives in the long run. I would think the quarians are deserving of punishment for this."

Shepard was silent, regarding the turian councilor with a quiet analysis. Tali felt her jaw slacken slightly as she looked up incredulously at the turian, his eyes unflinching and boring directly back into Shepard's skull. Even Garrus gave a start at that comment, but elected to follow Shepard's lead and remain silent.

"I would think the Exodus was punishment enough, councilor," Shepard replied succintly, leaving no room for no debate on where he stood.

"Apparently not," Sparatus spat, waving a dismissive hand, "We gave the Migrant Fleet explicit instructions not to provoke the geth. And they did it anyway. And from what I hear, there may be violations of the Treaty of Farixen to consider...turning liveships into dreadnoughts?"

Shepard just raised an eyebrow at that, "And you'd have me do what, councilor? Tell them off, give them a slap on the wrist? We're at war, councilor, and from what I remember, the Treaty of Farixen was suspended under wartime emergency provisions to encourage military buildup, so that's no longer applicable. And they provoked the geth...so what? It hardly matters now. The war between them is over."

"The ends do not justify the means, in this case," Tevos added, cutting off Sparatus' next snappy response, "And quite frankly Commander, I'm surprised you would endorse such an opinion. Regardless of what has occurred, we cannot overlook such blatant violations. The Treaty of Farixen, while suspended now, was still in effect when the quarians began their rearmament: retrospectively, we cannot legally ignore this. As such, this will incur harsh penalties, even during wartime."

Valern nodded, dropping the hammer, "As we are at war with the Reapers, we cannot land sanctions at this time that would otherwise inhibit morale and the war effort. However, we will, effective immediately, bar any attempts at establishing a quarian-geth embassy until such matters are addressed. The Salarian Union, Turian Hierarchy and the Asari Republics will also not provide logistical support to Rannoch as was requested. With our supply lines already stretched thin, it would be foolhardy and unjust to provide support to a planet owned by a species so blatantly unabiding of our laws."

"Councilors, may I jus-" Shepard began, but Sparatus swiftly cut him off, apparently having had enough.

"Do not insult us any further with your pandering, Commander Shepard," the councilor rasped, almost sagging against his pedestal from a combination of exhaustion and his sudden outburst, "Consider these sanctions light punishment for the violations committed. Were this peacetime, we'd have any quarian-geth alliance state on Rannoch declared illegitimate and barred from sovereign status. Let me make this perfectly clear: the Council will not stand for this. You may think because you saved our lives and that you were right about the Reaper threat that we will simply take you on your word from now on, but that will never be the case."

Without thinking, Tali stepped forth, next to Shepard, and pointed an accusatory finger at the turian, the appendage shaking with a growing anger, "You'll _watch_ who you're _speaking to_ , councilor!"

The action shocked Tali as much as it did every once else. Sparatus turned slowly to acknowledge her for a second, as if offended by the very idea that she was addressing him. Tevos and Valern looked at her rather lazily, while Shepard and Garrus gave her a wide-eyed stare of amazement: Shepard because he hadn't expected her to say that, and Garrus because of how one of his best friends had just chosen to but heads with the _Citadel Council_.

"Excuse me?" Sparatus almost demanded, mandibles twitching with irritation.

 _How dare he treat John that way. After all he's done, after all he's sacrificed, after all he's done for this galaxy...he has the audacity to stand there and accuse him of pandering? Of calling him a manipulator?_

Tali didn't try to stop the words that left her mouth now, her body becoming more animated as she stepped infront of Shepard, her _saera_ stepping back with Garrus as he watched the quarian speak in his defense, "You have no right, _none_ , to stand there and _judge him_ when all you've done is endanger this galaxy!"

"Now wait just a min-" Tevos began to speak, but the quarian whirled on her in an instant, waving an arm through the air to verbally cut her off.

"John tried to warn you about the Reaper threat three years ago. _Three_. You ignored him then, pretended to acknowledge him until he died, and then you brushed him under the rug and forgot...again. And then when the Reapers arrive, all you have to say is 'oops, our mistake'. You're all a bunch of _bosh'tets._ Hypocritical, self-absorbed, self-deserving _det kazuats_."

Tevos was old enough to know exactly what the quarian had meant, and her eyes widened, glaring down at the quarian admiral, "You have no right to speak to us in this manner! You're out of line!"

"I have _every_ right!" Tali snapped, gripping the railing in front of her, "I've fought, bled and almost died for this cause! I've fought geth, krogan, mercenaries, Collectors, the Shadow Broker's private army, Cerberus commandos, rachni, the Reapers...enemies you couldn't even _imagine_. As a quarian, I have more to risk than _anyone_ in this room. So I know the score. I know exactly what we're up against," she pointed a finger at all three of them, waving it across in a line to indicate to all of them, "I tried my very best to stop the war with the geth, I really did. And you know what? It doesn't matter what happened then, the next day, or even the week after...because two weeks later, the war was over, and my people were back on the homeworld, with the geth as allies, more powerful than ever."

"But you violated-" Valern began, but she wasn't giving any of them a chance to overrule her.

"Yes, we _violated_ the Treaty of Farixen. We _violated_ our agreement to not provoke the geth," Tali hissed, "But if we spent this war focusing on wrongs we committed in the past, none of the alliances we made so far would be possible. Humanity would still be bickering with the batarians, the krogan would still want to kill every salarian and turian in sight, and my people would still want to hunt the geth to total extinction. We made mistakes, but they're in the past now, and right now, we need to concentrate on the future. And insulting the one man who has done everything he can, sacrificed everything he could and shed what blood he has to protect this galaxy from the Reapers does more of a disservice, more of a _violation_ , to your ethical standards that its disrespectful. I suggest you get a grip councilors, because quite frankly, you're acting like _children_."

There was silence in the room after her passionate speech, and to their credit, none of the Council members offered immediate responses. She heard Garrus mutter something behind her, while a hand rose up and grabbed her shoulder gently, squeezing it. She smiled under her mask as she reached up and grasped it with her own, patting it lightly as it let go. He was letting her know how much he appreciated her standing up for him.

 _You got me a homeworld, John, now let me defend you from this pack of hypocrites._

A few moments later and, after some deliberation between the three of them, and to their everlasting shock, including Tali's, Sparatus spoke with a voice of self-disdain and regret, "We apologize, Commander, for our actions. Admiral Zorah was correct in that our conduct was entirely unacceptable. Its often easy to forget that we are all in this together."

Her job done, Tali stepped back from the podium, Shepard stepping forth to take her place, but not before shooting her a warm grin. But it wasn't just his usual grin: there was a glint in his eyes, the smile seeming to tug to the left in a way that exhibited immense joy. No, immense _pride_.

She felt butterflies in her stomach, her spirits souring as she stood just a bit straighter at seeing how proud he was of her.

 _Definitely not that meek little quarian I was all those years ago..._

"That's okay, councilors," Shepard spoke, dropping his grin so as to not seem smug, "This war is taking its toll on all of us, some more than others. While I don't condone the quarians going to war with the geth, what matters is the situation was resolved amicably and with little cost to the war effort. And with their support, we're one step closer to winning this."

 _And another step closer to having you build my house._ _ **Our**_ _house._

"Of course, Commander. And thank you Admiral Zorah," Tevos concluded, turning to the quarian with a weak smile, "We have not forgotten your words and will head them well. May the Goddess watch over you all. This meeting is adjourned."

"Keelah se'lai, councilor," she responded in kind as the three councilors walked away. Dismissed, the trio headed down the podium back into the chamber's atrium, descending down the steps with little urgency.

Once at the bottom, Garrus just chuckled, "Spirits, Tali, I've never seen you so riled up like that. Talking down the _Council_? Add _that_ to your list of achievements."

She shrugged, her altruism shining through as she rubbed the back of her neck, "It was nothing...really. I just didn't like how they were talking about John..." she shot him a smile, one he quietly returned in kind as she grabbed her hand, fingers slipping inbetween hers in a comforting embrace, "...I guess you could just say John rubbed off on me."

Shepard laughed, even as Tali stepped closer to him, pressing her hip into his as they stood side by side, "You liked watching me shout?"

"Yep. Thought I'd give it a try."

He sighed, hand that had been holding hers releasing it to snake around her waist, pulling her further into him as he nuzzled his forehead against her visor, staring into her eyes, "Wouldn't mind making _you_ shout later on..."

"Ooohhhh..." she purred in response, "...you have more politicians for me to shout at?"

His smile only widened, "Oh, I think I had a different kind of shouting in mind..."

A flanged voice cleared their throat, and the pair of them, annoyed, reluctantly turned to look at the subject in question, the look of discomfort on their face clear as day.

"Oh, Garrus. I forgot you were there," Shepard stated with an awful American accent. He failed miserably, but at least the turian wasn't able to tell the difference. His _Tombstone_ reference would fall on deaf ears, it seemed.

"Evidently," he quipped, shaking his head, "You two are shameless."

The two of them parted for the sake of the turian's comfort, their third-wheeling reluctantly concluded, but his arm remaining around her waist with a comfortable grasp. Tali just smiled, her arms crossed, "I think Garrus is just jealous because I'm the one who shouted down the Council, not him."

The turian opened his mouth to form a witty remark but, for once, found none.

In the end, he just shrugged, "I...actually can't argue that," desperate to change the subject from his merciless defeat, he turned and headed back the way they came, motioning to his omni-tool, "We've still got a few hours to kill while the _Normandy_ gets restocked. You two up for some drinks at Purgatory? Might be able to catch Jack if we hurry up."

They sighed, Tali and Shepard looking into each other's eyes one last time. She appreciated the look of pride in them: the pride he felt for his quarian girlfriend who had stood up to the Citadel Council and shouted them down in the defense of her mate. Of her _saera_. Something he had done for her back during her trial, and something she had just paid back in full.

"Sounds great," Shepard responded, finally pulling away from her to follow Garrus, "Come on Tali, might as well down a few poisons. I hope you can keep up." He wriggled his eyebrows at her, the suggestion clear as day.

She just placed one hand on her hip, her voice playful, "Keelah John, are you getting me drunk just to take _advantage_ of me?"

He held his heart mockingly as he bent over, pretending to have been shot, "Who, _me_? How scandalous!" the two of them just laughed, before he extended an arm out to her, offering his hand to hers. She took it without thinking, smiling the entire time as he continued, "Come on Miss vas Normandy, time to let our hair down. Captain's orders."

She just continued to smile dumbly, letting him guide her away. Her anchor. Her immovable rock.

Her soulmate.

"Lead the way, captain," she cooed, "I'm as free as dust on the solar wind."

* * *

 _ **Like I said, not entirely what you wanted, but the premise is the same: Tali gave her opinion on the Council. All in all, I think that was the longest one-shot I've done so far. Let's see where we go with the next one!**_


	5. Snapshot 4: Unique Perspective

_**Quick reminder: I've changed my name to RedCenturionG. I AM LONGER KNOWN AS ARCHREAPERN7. Just clarifying in case anyone was confused.**_

 _ **Well you asked it for Rob Sears, and now you get it. I hope you enjoy this one as much as I enjoyed writing it!**_

"I've always loved the M35 Mako. Its got heart, you know?"

"Oh come on! The M44 Hammerhead is _vastly_ superior."

Tali sighed as she pulled away from her disassembled M-22 Eviscerator shotgun on the work bench and briefly glanced at the two arguing crewmen behind her. She had been back on the _Normandy_ for less than a week, and she was already having to experience Shepard's recent additions to the already odd roster of people calling the ship home.

Steve Cortez, the ship's quartermaster and shuttle pilot, was at the shuttle's rear engines, omni-tool venting sparks as he welded a replacement piece of casing to the blackened material. For some reason James Vega, a gung-ho marine that had been assigned to watch over Shepard during his incarceration on Earth and now served with him, had chosen this time to pick a 'fight' with Cortez, doing so from the hectic mess of his 'armoury', the marine leaning back in a chair while his feet were kicked up ontop of his work bench, chestplate of his ridiculously large, modified HYPERION-87 combat armor resting on his chest as he strained to rub away a particular scuff mark on the right breast.

James snorted, dropping the dirty rag he had been using on his leg as he fixed Cortez with an exasperated glare, "Oh, get out of here, Esteban! That thing is made of tissue paper! A few hits, and it falls apart! At least the Mako could take a few hits!"

She rolled her eyes, trying to shut out the conversation as she turned back to her bench, picking up the heat sink of her shotgun and running a hand over it before putting it back down, picking up the primary shaving block. She had upgraded her shotgun with a secondary shaving block to save on reload times, allowing her to use two thermal clips simultaneously to not only provide her with the ability to use twice the ammo in one go, but also to compensate for the enormous load the 'carnage' blast inflicts on her weapon. At least now when she performed the tactic, it wouldn't run the risk of blowing the weapon up in her hands. She smiled.

 _Wrex would be proud. I'm really glad he showed me that trick. Done a lot to save me from some very hairy battles. Nothing like blowing a geth away with a high-powered, superheated concussive dual-merged slug._

Her thoughts were broken once more as Cortez offered his retaliation, "I'd hope so! That thing handles like a drunken rhino. No agility whatsoever! If it wasn't able to take punishment, I imagine anyone you were fighting would kill you before you even knew they were firing at you!"

Tali couldn't help but giggle slightly under her breath at that. _I guess perhaps John's driving wasn't entirely his fault if that's the case...still, he was shockingly bad. Keelah, I have nightmares just thinking about that six-wheeled coffin._

James grabbed his rag again, each rub brought on by his accentuation of every word, "More like a _bull._ A bull that can _climb_ and _climb_ for days!"

Tali rolled her eyes, picking up the individual shotgun pieces as she proceeded to reassemble the weapon, having finished cleaning the individual parts and checking the barrel's dirt cover to make sure nothing had made it inside to jam up her weapon of choice. _I remember Nodacrux...the Mako could only climb for as long as it could break the laws of physics. How does that vehicle work, exactly? How can it simultaneously climb a steep hill at an impossible angle, but be unable to best the tallest mountains on Nodacrux? I think I puked six times during that entire ride._

She shuddered at the very thought of it. _So glad he didn't invest in getting a replacement._

Cortez seemed to echo her thoughts, even if he didn't know it, standing up as he finished welding the replacement part and deactivated his omni-tool, removing the mask that had been protecting his face. He removed his gloves and slapped them down on the console infront of him, laughing in disbelief, "It only climbs because of its stupid, vertically aligned mass effect fields. Jump or stick...no speed, no lateral movement...just one big stupid tank that can only move forward and has to rely on something so archaic as _wheels_ to propel itself. At least the Hammerhead can hover."

James pursed his lips and made a noise that sounded like a cross between a choke and an exhale, the marine apparently having tried, and failed, to emulate the sound a cannon makes when firing, "Hey, when you've got a cannon like that, who needs movement? Just blow 'em up before they hit you."

Returning to his console, Cortez waved a dismissive hand, "You mean that stupid cannon that combines a machine gun and a 30mm main gun? The same cannon that most marines have criticized for being unwieldy, unnecessarily dangerous and an exorbitant waste of money?"

James shook his head, "Most marines I've met said its like a bloody howitzer. You can spew hot lead or you can spit the boom boom. Can't argue with a marine's need to blow shit up, Esteban. We're ministers of death, remember?"

 _Is that really how they view their marines? 'Ministers of death'? I'll have to ask John about that._

"You mean most _jarheads_ , Vega," Cortez grunted, tapping away at his console as he took stock of their supplies with a few idle taps, "I mean actual, proper, high-ranking marines who know their shit and are worth their salt. I'm talking about N program, MARSOC and the like. They were saying it back when the Mako was still in secret dev, back when it was called the X-08 prototype. The M-298 Multi-Role Cannon combines a heavy machine gun and a 30mm cannon, yeah, but have you ever seen a gunner try and use both at the same time?"

James' grin was like that of a child who had just figured out a dirty joke, "Sounds badass."

Cortez sighed, a small smile on his lips, "It was...for a brief few seconds. Unfortunately for him, the turret overheated and fried most of the vehicle's operating systems. That particular marine was relieved of duty for six weeks and had to mop floors for four of those. So why should we have a cannon like that, eh? All it would take is for someone to forget to switch firing modes."

"That seems like a major flaw to have in an advanced combat vehicle like that," Tali stated without even thinking about it, accidentally damning herself to be involved in their spat.

"See, Tali agrees with me," Cortez smugly declared.

James just chortled, dumping his armor on his work bench as he stood up, rag dropping down with it, "Oh come on, Sparks! You've been in a Mako. How can you not agree with me?"

Her shotgun only partly reassembled, she turned around, arms crossed as she leaned back against the bench, one eyebrow raised behind her mask as she stared across at the burly marine, "Because I've _been_ in a Mako. I don't really miss it."

James crossed his own arms as he came to stand on the other side of his bench, shaking his head with some mirth, a short grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, "What an engineer know about the fine, sleek perfection of a main battle tank!"

Cortez just frowned at the marine, "The Mako is an IFV, not a main battle tank. That would be the Thresher."

"Shut it, Esteban," he flippantly dismissed the pilot's statement, "You know what I meant. The Mako is a hammer! Bringing down pain!"

"Yes, and like a hammer, its slow and hard to aim once its moving in a particular direction. All momentum and no agility," Cortez riposted.

Tali finally gave in, choosing to commit herself to whatever argument the two had cooked up. After all, it wasn't like she could really get out of it at this point. She had damned herself with her own words. She stood up and moved over to where Cortez stood so they could better hear what she was saying, "And I might be an engineer, James, but that just makes me more qualified to talk about the effectiveness of a mechanized fighting vehicle than some gung-ho marine who sees a big cannon and nothing else."

"Oooooohhhhh!" Cortez winced comically, gritting his teeth as he shot the marine the biggest smug grin he could likely muster, "I think she just called you dense, Vega."

She shook her head, turning to Cortez with a smirk of her own that she was sure he wouldn't be able to see, but couldn't help but be conscious of, "Don't think I'm agreeing with you, Cortez. The Hammerhead is just as bad, if not worse."

James guffaw could be heard as the grin sank away from Cortez's lips, "Damn, eat shit, Esteban!"

"But the M44 Hammerhead-"

"-could barely handle a few stones being thrown at it, let alone a geth pulse rifle," she drawled, finding herself more and more enthused by the argument she had taken part in. _Maybe it won't be so bad afterall._ "And don't get me started on that main gun. Those missiles have homing capability, but if your enemy has the most basic of kinetic barriers, they can take that punishment. They call the Hammerhead a 'main battle tank', but it barely qualifies as anti-infantry."

She turned to James next, ready to wipe away his own complacency, "And the Mako can take a few hits sure, but if its caught between a rock and a hard place, it has little to no room to maneveur. Its lateral, forward-facing movement is inferior to the Hammerhead's multi-directional rapid movement, and its jump jets are the only thing that stop it from beginning completely inflexible. And despite the Hammerhead having weaker kinetic barriers, it makes up for that shortcoming in a quick replenishment cycle, reducing the Mako's 10 second recharge rate to a mere 2 seconds. This makes the Hammerhead far more effective at quick, rapid hit-and-run strikes than the Mako, which can barely handle a heavy assault. You'd need multiple Makos to even take out an anti-tank emplacement. The Hammerhead could at least take it out by itself."

James just scoffed, "Doesn't matter! It can climb hills like a bull and has the cannon of a howitzer!"

Tali just rolled her eyes, sighing, "You weren't on Nodacrux James, so I'll go easy on you: the Mako's climbing isn't as good as you think. It will stall if it hits too steep an angle, which means you'll either have to reverse back and hope you don't go tumbling off the side of a cliff, or you'll have to hang there and hope the Mako can ride the incline diagonally. As for the main gun? Cortez is right. We've actually had that happen twice during our mission against Saren, and one of them was while fighting a thresher maw. You can imagine how much fun that was."

James and Cortez frowned, "How did you survive then?"

Tali blushed, a heat rising to her cheeks as she shrugged, "They happened to have a quarian machinist onboard who knew how to reroute power and set up portable generators. Suffice to say, said quarian was invited along to every single Mako deployment from that point forward."

The two men fell quiet, sharing knowing glances that told Tali all she needed to know about what they were thinking right now. Even so, it took until Cortez spoke up before either one of them voiced that mutual concordance, "So...you don't think either tank is good?"

She weighed the options internally, knowing that if she committed to either side of the argument her brain, hungry for analytical accuracy, would have to pick apart the strengths and weaknesses of both: something she knew neither man was looking for. They wanted someone to validate their stance, to give them someone to say 'hey, two against one'.

They were going to be sorely dissapointed.

"I think they both have their ups and downs. The Mako has strong shielding, but lacks movement diversity. The Hammerhead has the latter, but lacks the firepower and armor to truly make that movement variety felt. Both have huge shortcomings, but they're both good enough to fullfill the roles they're set out to do."

James gave a rueful sigh, pouting slightly (if the marine was even capable of that) as he turned to return to his bench, "It would have been so much more interesting if you actually took a side, Sparks."

She gave a playful shrug, a hand on her hip as she cocked it to the side, "But then I'd have to be lying, wouldn't I? I'm an engineer, Vega. My job is to be partial to the technicalities and the inner workings of a vehicle. I'll leave the favouritism to the narrow-minded."

James winced, pretending to have been shot, "Damn Sparks, so _savage_. I didn't know quarians could be so...destructive."

She laughed, the sound a genuine response to his joke. She had found it very difficult to laugh in the past few days, especially since her people had stupidly gone to war with the geth and trapped themselves. But the marine, ancestors forbid, had actually made her laugh. That was something she was going to note down. She was beginning to like this James Vega.

"Being in suits, we've had to find... _other_ means of destroying our enemies," Tali jested, still giggling slightly under her breath, the sound barely a whisper, "I'm glad to see my skills aren't rusty."

"Wouldn't want that," Cortez added, a grin of his own plastered across his face.

The sound of the elevator arriving behind them was heard, and all three occupants of the room turned in time to see the door opening, revealing the familiar form of their commander, John Shepard, stepping out into the shuttle bay. He wore his typical N7 jacket and cap, although the jacket was unzipped and both sides hung lazily at his sides as one hand was folded inside his pocket, while he was whistling lightly to himself.

Upon seeing Tali though, he ceased whistling and a warm smile graced his lips, "Oh, Tali. Didn't expect to find you here. What brings you down here with these two jarheads?"

"I am _not_ a jarhead," Cortez mumbled, although only Tali heard it.

She turned her full attention to him, finding herself smiling on reflex in his presence, "Nothing. Was just disassembling my shotgun when these two started arguing about what vehicle was better."

Shepard gave an overly dramatic roll of the eyes as he groaned, "Good god, they didn't rope you into one of their stupid arguments, did they? What is it this time?"

 _They do this a lot?_

James tried to look innocent, shrugging non-commitally, holding his hands up in placation, "Hey, its a _debate_ , not an _argument_. Besides, no harm no foul. Was just giving Esteban here a lesson on the finer aspects of vehicular manslaughter and which tank excels best."

"I thought we concluded neither one was?" Cortez queried, eyebrow raised at the marine as he turned from his console.

James just chuckled, "Sparks and you did, but I know where my loyalties lie. _No se puede vencer al toro_!"

Tali frowned, looking between Shepard and James before finally landing completely on James, "What was that? My translator didn't get any of that."

James just grinned mischeviously, "Just one more secret for me to have and you to find out, Sparks."

"Right..."

"What about you, Shepard?" The marine questioned, leaning back against the bench behind him with his arms crossed, letting his verbal poke at his CO linger for a bit, "What do you think is better?"

Tali noticed Shepard's face crease into frown, only to crease into a single raised eyebrow as he wondered what the marine was on about. Human faces were so expressive, it was sometimes difficult to keep up with all of them and what they meant, but she had been around a human crew long enough to pick up the non-verbal cues. Shepard was interested, "Out of what?"

"Mako...or Hammerhead?"

He shrugged, racking his brain for a bit as he looked aimlessly up at the ceiling, and then finally turned back to the marine, "Hmmmm...probably the Mako, honestly."

James was beyond pleased with himself, pumping a fist straight into the air, "Hell yeah! Mako wins, suckers!"

Shepard looked mildly amused by James' bold declaration, but chose to humour him a little further rather than pop his bubble, "Well, I just think it handles a bit better. Not to mention I was much better at driving it than the Hammerhead."

Tali stared, dumbfounded, at Shepard for a few seconds. After a moment, it became noticeable and the first human Spectre took notice, looking down at her, his eyes meeting hers as his unasked question of 'something wrong?' remained locked behind his lips. She simply stared at him for a few moments, before she started shaking. So much so that one might have thought she'd had a seizure.

Until the laughs started erupting from her throat.

She almost collapsed over the console behind her, each laugh like a rocket launching from her mouth as it exploded with an enormous exhale of breath, her chest hurting and thighs quaking with her mirth. Shepard simply stared at her with a small grin, while Cortez looked mortified by the quarian's state, wondering if she had gone insane. James looked more confused than anything else.

After about a minute, Shepard decided enough was enough, "Okay Tali, no need to belabour the point. I get it. I'm a running riot."

She turned to him, the inside of her visor fogging up slightly as she tried to reign in her laughter, doing so to little effect, "Its just...you said...you were good...at driving in the...Mako...do you not...remember...Noda...Noda...Nodac..."

He sighed, looking a tad annoyed as he looked between Cortez and James, rubbing the back of his neck slightly as a slight red tinge reached his cheeks, indicating his embarassment, "Yes Miss vas Normandy, I remember Nodacrux. And that wasn't my damn fault. It was those stupid mountains. Seriously, _fuck_ that planet."

"Oh John..." she continued to giggle, the intensity of her amusement having died down enough for her to form a coherent sentence, "...don't delude yourself. You've never been a good driver. Let's just leave it at that," she turned to James, shaking her head, "I'm afraid that if you think Shepard endorsing your view of the Mako is going to help your case, you're solely mistaken. You weren't there for the Eden Prime War. Shepard is a _terrible_ driver."

To her surprise, James actually looked somewhat betrayed.

 _The great Commander Shepard...and he can't drive a Mako. Keelah, what a wound that must be to his reputation._

"My quarian engineer is emasculating me infront of my crew," Shepard complained, hands clasped behind his back as he seemingly tried to pretend his girlfriend didn't exist, an overly exaggerated grin on his face, "It must be a Tuesday."

"Don't worry, John, it won't hurt your reputation for them to know this," she revised that statement with a counter shrug, "Well...not too badly."

"Knew I could always count on you, Tali."

"Please to serve you, captain."

"Charmed. Are you done running my reputation through the muck now?"

James sighed, breaking off the banter between the two, "I'm just disappointed in you guys. No respect for the beautiful Mako at all." And like that, the marine disappeared back behind his bench, grabbing his armor as he returned to work. To his credit, the marine wasn't pouting like a schoolgirl who just got told her favourite film was garbage by the boy she liked, but his irritation was clear. Whether it was genuine annoyance or not was yet to be seen. She didn't know Vega enough to make that kind of judgement.

Tali stood up, tapping Shepard's shoulder as she headed back over to her work bench, "Keelah John, this whole argument was worth it just to see you brought down a rung or two."

He gave a sarcastic chuckle, "Gee, thanks Tali. Glad to know somebody's got my back in an argument. Remind me to never assign you as my driving supervisor. You'd probably give me nothing but D minuses."

"I'd only be telling the truth."

"Treason, if I ever heard it."

"Me? Tali'Zorah vas Normandy nar Rayya, capable of treason? I believe a certain someone cleared me of that."

"Wouldn't know him. Care to introduce me?"

She smiled warmly, leaving him where he stood at the armoury, "Yes, but just as long as we do it outside the confines of a Mako. He isn't very good at driving them."

"Point made, heard and cleared for assessment."

"Good to know. Catch you later."

And with that, she turned to her work bench, grabbing what remained of her disassembled shotgun as she began the long process of putting it back together. She sighed, her grin still prominent across her lips.

 _Good thing the new Normandy doesn't have a Mako. Note to self: make sure he never requisitions one._

 _ **And there you have it. Hope you enjoyed this one, Rob Sears!**_

 _ **And with that, I hope you guys have enjoyed all the fluff, because the next one is going to be a dark piece of work. Just giving you fair warning.**_


	6. Snapshot 5: Purple Sparrow

_**This one is for you Rick O'Shay. Enjoy.**_

The shuttle shifted violenty for a brief second, its occupants grabbing onto the nearest apparatus to keep them standing upright. Just as quickly as it happened, the UT-47 Kodiak managed to right itself, inertia dampeners eliminating what little kickback still existed. As such, the vehicle's three occupants returned to their normal standing positions. One of them smiled.

"A bit choppy, huh?"

"Keelah...you think?"

"I, for one, don't mind it."

The three occupants, a human, a quarian and a turian, would have been quite the unusual sight had anyone else seen them. An N7, clad in medium red-and-black, white stripped combat armor, a DMR and shotgun strapped to his back. A turian, cobalt blue armor standing in contrast to the black Widow rifle that he loved. And a quarian, a geth plasma shotgun collapsed on the small of her back while her purple veil and black suit evoked a sense of innocence and vulnerability that weren't as prominent as one would think.

The human, the prestigious Commander Shepard and the Alliance's rising star and poster child, turned to his turian companion, grinning, "I guess I shouldn't be surprised you'd be the one who loves being shaken around."

The turian was quick to snap back, the verbal sparring between the two always turning into a battle for the last word, "What exactly are you saying, Shepard?"

Shepard turned to Tali, his grin just as wide as he imagined Tali's was behind her mask, "Oh...I think you know exactly what I mean."

One of the turian's mandibles twitched ever so slightly, betraying his amusement at the comment. He crossed his arms as the shuttle steadied, the inertia dampeners finally repulsing the g-forces compressing the vehicle's flight. He looked at Tali, but seeing no answer forthcoming, turned back to Shepard, eyes narrowing, "Come on, Shepard...what did you mean by that? This..." his eyes suddenly widened, and his eyes landed fully on Tali, "...this is about that incident in the mess hall, isn't it?"

A slight shudder shakes the kodiak, but it is brief and barely noticed by the trio. Shepard turns to Tali, still smirking away, "I don't know what you mean, Garrus. Tali, do you know what he's talking about?"

The seemingly demure quarian pretended to think on that, "Let me think..." stroking the bottom of her mask, Tali finally shrugged, holding up her hands placatingly, the smirk evident in her voice, "...nope. No idea what he means."

Garrus sighed, rubbing his fringe awkwardly, "Tali, you promised you wouldn't say anything. And I even gave you an extra block of dextro cholocate as a bribe!"

The quarian feigned shock, holding a hand over her heart, "Me, Tali'Zorah, bribed by chocolate? I should think not, Vakarian."

"Besides, Tali would _never_ betray me!" Shepard chuckled, slapping Garrus on the back, "Don't look so glum, Garrus. All that happe-"

The turian quickly swiped a hand through the air, signalling for the pair to end the conversation right there, "No, no more. Let's not mention that incident ever again. As for you, Tali...I will remember this monstrous betrayal. No more dextro chocolate for you." The turian's amusement finally spread across his features, a small laugh chuckle erupting from his throat.

Tali cocked her head at Garrus, turning to Shepard, "Oh, I'm sure Shepard will be able to compensate."

Shaking his head, Shepard turned to the shuttle's hatch, grabbing his helmet from a nearby bench and seating it over his head, the catches locking into place with a hiss as the suit pressurized. His voice came through muffled, electronically amplified slightly by his external suit comm, "I'd be a terrible boyfriend if I failed to get my girlfriend some chocolate."

Tali playfully bumped her hips into his as she turned around, whipping out her shotgun as Garrus was left to himself to get ready. Lightly, so only the two of them could hear what she said, she whispered into his ear, "I prefer the _de'temcre_ chocolate, by the way. It has a sweeter taste, and melts in my mouth."

Shepard grinned, turning as he found her mask inches away from him. He tapped his helmet against her visor, their version of a kiss, "Consider it done, _inszel_."

She smiled, pulling away from him, "You're learning. You didn't mispronounce it this time."

"Well, I do like how that word sounds when you say it. Everytime I say it, it sounds a snake hissing. I'd rather not butcher the language of my girlfriend. Makes a bad impression on the family."

"Raan won't mind."

"I'm sure Gerrel will declare war if I do."

She paused for a second, then nodded, "Good point. You should do some more practice."

"As my lady commands."

She punched him in the shoulder, although it was light and lacked any real power behind it. She shook her head exasperatingly, "I told you. I'm _not_ royalty."

A voice from the cockpit interrupted whatever Shepard was about to say, "We're approaching the landing zone. Looks like the Blue Suns saw we were coming and beat a hasty retreat inside. Place looks like they just dropped everything and ran for it."

Shepard nodded, wiping the grin from his face as he entered Commander mode. Tali watched the warmth vanish from his face as he sealed his helmet into its rebreather mode, leaving nothing but his eyes visible, and even then, only barely. He turned to the hatch, nodding, "Roger that, Doherty. We shouldn't be too long. Intel says only a single Blue Suns squad, lightly armed, no heavy weapons or mechs. Stupid, considering what they've found, but works to our advantage. Just hold here until we're finished."

Noting his change in demeanour, Tali and Garrus dropped their banter and tensed up. She was already checking and double checking her omni-tool, making sure the processor was running to the specs she needed and that her programs were set to the hotkeys she had adjusted for maximum efficiency. Shepard had insisted they all download the new omni-blade program for close quarters combat, and Tali, despite having her boot knife, had done just that. Finally done with her checks, she pokes her pocket to make sure Chiktika was still there.

The shuttle hit the ground with a thud, and the hatch snapped open, a gust of wind assaulting them immediately as the detritus of the planet quickly rushed to invade the shuttle's interior. Tali's veil rippled from the torment of the air blast, while the two armoured soldiers beside her barely shifted. Shepard reached behind him and pulled out his M-15 Vindicator DMR, bracing it against his shoulder.

His two companions mirrored the action, and preceded out of the shuttle, stepping out into the maelstrom waiting for them outside.

* * *

Clearing out the facility hadn't been much of a hurdle for the trio. Whilst outnumbered, their martial skills and special operations knowledge and experience meant the Blue Suns squad waiting for them stood little chance against them. Whilst they put a desperate fight, it was a futile one. Now their corpses littered the cold, sublime floors of the abandoned prothean facility.

The battle had lasted little more than a few minutes: the three of them had worked together like a well oiled machine, covering each other's weaknesses and using their strengths appropriately. Once they were finished, they had quickly collected the bodies and arranged them neatly side by side to be collected. After contacting the _Normandy_ to dispatch a Council research team to secure the prothean facility, they had split up to cover more ground and explore the installation. Garrus remained ontop to await the CRT, while Shepard uses his technical skills to poke around inside what he assumed to be the control room. Tali ventured below levels, looking for anything valuable or interesting, her curious mind quickly overcoming her.

Either the Blue Suns had partially restored power to the facility, which she found unlikely for a band of mercs looking for an easy score, or the protheans had really gone all-out on reserve power that could last for fifty thousand years. She had discovered a sub-level and quickly explored it, finding what seemed to an endless web of tunnels and sub-facilities that dotted the underground landscape. If she had to guess, this had to have been somekind of military compound: the facility was simply too small to be a city, and lacked the equipment one came to associate with medical or R&D. That, or she was simply projecting her own preconceptions of what constituted R&D. Who knew with the protheans, after all.

She had to admit though, this placed creeped her out. It was so empty, so vast, and yet so filled with life. It was like the protheans had never left, despite the obvious age that had worked its way into the rusted, and sometimes caved-in, chambers.

Shepard's voice worked its way into her comms, "Think we could convince Liara to check this place out?"

She giggled softly, the slight sound carrying across the empty chambers with a whisper of an echo, "John, we'd have to post Reaper sentries to keep her _away_."

She received a chuckle in response, "Silly question."

The comms then went silent again.

Tali knew he liked to occassionally contact her just to hear her voice, even if his questions could sometimes be of a rhetorical or rather obvious nature. However, the fact that all he wanted to hear was her voice put a smile on her face. She couldn't say he had changed since their days fighting Saren, but ever since they had admitted their feelings to each other...suffice to say, Shepard seemed a lot more comfortable around her now. More jovial, in fact.

"Interesting."

For a second, Tali thought it was Shepard's voice she was hearing through her comms again. It wouldn't surprise her, he certainly enjoyed her company, and they were going to be here for at least another hour or two.

Until she realized the voice was _female_.

Eyes wide, she whirled on the source of the sound, her geth plasma shotgun up and braced against her shoulder firmly, the quarian's response and reaction time honed through years of serving with the Migrant Fleet marines...although mostly after numerous training sessions with a certain krogan battlemaster in the old _Normandy_ 's armoury.

She assumed it had to be a survivor of the Blue Suns squad, but upon closer inspection, she couldn't actually make out who the person was. In fact, once her eyes focused, she noted that there wasn't actually anyone there at all. There was nothing. Not a soul to be found.

It was only then she noticed that her omni-tool was glowing.

Lowering her shotgun and holding it in one hand, she brought up her omni-tool, noting that somehow it was in the middle of a call with an unknown origin. She could run a trace, but if the person had managed to hack the quarian's omni-tool (which she prided herself on having some of the most sophisticated firewalls available), then chances were she would be able to tell when the quarian was trying to track her location. Instead, she hesitantly raised her voice, addressing the caller, "Who...who _is_ this? How did you get this number?"

"Who I am does not matter, only that I have something you might be interested in."

She frowned. She didn't like that she didn't know the identity of this person, much less the fact they had managed to hack her omni-tool so easily. Deciding to entertain whatever game this person was playing at, she spoke again, her tone now far more confident, "Then spit it out, before I hang up."

"Very well," the voice replied, the distortion indicating to her that she, or he, was clearly using a voice scrambler. Whoever they were, they clearly were going to great lengths to keep their identity secret, "We, being an organization interested in the acquisition of prothean technologies, would like to enlist you on a mission."

She raised an eyebrow at that, her confusion at this sudden situation deepening, "Mission? Acquiring prothean technology? Do you know who I am?"

The voice seemed to smile at that, "We know who you are, Tali'Zorah. You are one of the Heroines of the Citadel, which is why we have approached you with this offer. I think you would find the reward to be quite to your liking. Of course, we wouldn't allow you to do anything without Commander Shepard's approval."

"Then why contact me?" she blurted, growing more and more frustrated by this enigma that just refused to crack, "Why not just contact Jo-Shepard? Or Liara? Liara knows far more about prothean technology than I do."

There was a sigh, "Commander Shepard has...in the past...gone to great lengths to infuriate my employer. As for Miss T'Soni, she is currently... _persona non grata_ , you might say. We believed that, out of Shepard's current assortment of specialists, you would be the most amenable. Your fixation with loyalty and discretion has earned you my employer's trust."

 _Employer? And Shepard has infuriated them? All the more reason not to trust them._ She continued nonetheless, interested to see where this was going, "Let's say I was interested. What reward would I get?"

"We understand the Migrant Fleet is in need of some new ships to replace a few lost recently," the voice riposted, quick to jump to the point, "My employer would be more than happy to provide them at reduced cost. All you need to do is keep an eye on any prothean technology you find and forward it to us. You will be personally well compensated for it as well."

That got Tali's attention. _They'd just do that? And how did they know the Fleet had lost ships recently? That only just happened yesterday...the only person who could possibly have the information to know that is either Cerberus or the Shadow Broker...Cerberus is human centric, so that just leaves..._

The realization dawning on her, Tali just shook her head, "Even if I was to say yes to this...how am I supposed to contact you? You hacked my omni-tool."

"An anonymous address will be sent via a data packet to your omni-tool once this call has concluded. You may send mission updates as you go along, just to keep us up-to-date," the voice finished, leaving the line open. It was clear she was expecting an answer.

In the end, Tali didn't see the harm in it. They hadn't asked her to betray Shepard or the _Normandy_ by leaking classified intelligence or information, and all they asked for was prothean technology. Completely harmless. Of course, she would tell Shepard of this once she was finished, but she doubted he would tell her she couldn't. Besides, the Migrant Fleet really was in sore need of new ships, and if the voice was to be believed, these ships were brand new.

She nodded, "Very well. I accept your mission. I'll be sure to keep an eye out for whatever I can find. You know I'll have to tell my Commander, though. I cannot keep this secret from him."

Their response was clear and concise, as if the entire event had been predicted, scripted and practiced beforehand, "Loyalty is why we contacted you, Tali'Zorah. Go in peace."

And as abruptly as she had been called, her omni-tool dimmed and deactivated, beeping to indicate the call had been ended. Tapping her omni-tool to switch it off, Tali just shook her head and moved towards the nearest chamber, collecting her thoughts.

 _Something about that whole conversation seemed...off. It seemed like she was less interested in presenting an offer and more in what I had to say. Like she was...drilling me for information. Not to mention a lot of her sentences seemed needlessly...expository._ Even as Tali leaned her shotgun against a nearby console, she couldn't help but feel a slight chill overcome her.

Despite this, she turned to look at the dormant console infront of her, and decided it wouldn't hurt to begin her 'mission' early. Bringing up her omni-tool, she noted how odd it was, given the speed of the extranet, that she hadn't received that address yet. Shaking her head to toss that thought aside, she quickly activated her omni-tool and began scanning the console infront of her.

After a few moments, she jumped back as the console lit up suddenly, releasing a burst of white light that consumed her vision for a brief second, before evaporating. The console returned to its dormant state once more, and Tali frantically scrambled to see what had happened. Her omni-tool had picked up a slight energy buildup prior to the burst of light, but now there was no trace of it. She couldn't even tell what it was. All she could do was continue to use her omni-tool to scan the console, spending minutes at a time trying to discover what the issue was.

Her searching was interrupted as she Shepard's voice over her comm. However, his voice wasn't as cheery as she had come to expect it. There was something chilling about it, a sense of anger hidden within it, and it was something she hadn't heard since Agebinium, Feros, the _Fedele_ and Nodacrux. A kind of feral anger that Shepard only unleashed when he was furious.

"Tali...I need to see you. _Now_."

* * *

Shepard had expected an update from Tali by now, but he had simply surmized she was busy exploring and decided to let her be. It wouldn't do for her commander to continue calling her constantly like a nagging partner. Still, he did feel a sense of emptiness when she wasn't around, and that did nag at him. Their relationship was only a few weeks old, and despite Shepard having had many girlfriends in the past, he felt like a school boy who had just gone on a date with his first crush. He even smiled dopishly whenever she was around or talking his ear off on some technical breakthrough or another. He was an engineer, but hardly what one would call as experienced as Tali was. Still, they were basically partners-in-tech.

To distract himself from her absence, he had decided to put those skills of his to use poking around the many prothean systems around them.

As he pondered on whether or not to contact Tali and request an update, the console infront of him suddenly lit up. Frowning, he stood up to address the sound, hands gripping the terminal. But as he raised his omni-tool to bring up his diagnosis subroutines, the console lit up brilliantly, a blistering tornado of green particles exploding out to form the head of what looked to be a Collector. No...a _prothean_.

Before he could even yell out to Garrus to come check out his new find, he felt his cybernetics flare up, and his vision suddenly blackened, a burning sensation running up his spine, arms, legs, and spearing through his skull. He recognized this sensation all too well...no doubt, if anyone was to look at him from the outside, his eyes would be glowing bright green, and every exposed piece of cybernetic augmentation and grafting in his body would have lit up like a christmas tree. The prothean, no...the _AI_...was taking control of his body.

Just as quickly as the lances of fire took over his form, he found himself relieved of it, only to find his eyes peeling open to the sight of a location he was unfamiliar with...or rather, was quite familiar with, but wasn't quite present in at the current moment. It was then he realized he must be in somekind of memory. Except, it wasn't one he remembered having.

He was in somekind of office cubicle on the Migrant Fleet, a single utilitarian desk sitting in the back with nothing but a terminal on it. The 3x3 meter room was small enough for three people to sleep in at most. Sitting behind the desk was a quarian he remembered well: Shala'Raan vas Tonbay, Tali's adopted aunt. Across from it was the purple-draped form of Tali herself, hands clasped behind her back as she addressed the quarian admiral across from her.

Shala's accented voice broke the silence of the cubicle, speaking to Tali in an authoritative manner he hadn't recognized as being associated with Shala. She had always seemed so motherly with Tali: to see her address her like a subordinate instead of a niece was surprising, to say the least, "Tali'Zorah, we have a mission you might be interested in. It concerns Commander Shepard."

Tali's voice was like that of a drone, bland and barren, speaking with a flat acceptance, "Anything for the Migrant Fleet, Admiral Raan."

Shala seemed to accept this as she stood up, pacing back and forth, "Your fixation with loyalty and discretion has earned you the Admiralty Board's trust. We understand your relationship with the commander makes you perfect for this task. Before we go any further, I must know: does your loyalty to the commander supercede that of your loyalty to the Fleet?"

Tali's response both surprised and didn't surprise Shepard, "Loyalty to the Fleet always comes first, Admiral Raan. What do my people need of me?"

"All we need you to do is keep an eye on Commander Shepard and report whatever information you can back to us," Shala stated, "These reports that he works for Cerberus and has come back to the dead are very worrying, as is his apparent interest in you. The next time he comes to recruit you, and he will, you will accept. You must gain his trust. If need be, entertain this... _interest_...he has in you."

Tali's responses continued to feel like stabs in the chest for Shepard. He wished he could close his eyes and shut it off, ignore this for what it was. A lie. But somehow he knew it wasn't...the fact that this felt like a memory, like he was spying on an actual event that occurred outside of his purview, wasn't helping, "If I must sleep with him to get the information the Fleet needs Admiral Raan, I will."

"We will leak information about you being on Haestrom to Cerberus. They will no doubt relay this to the Commander," Shala stated, "You cannot tell your Commander about this. This must remain a secret from him. To find out the Migrant Fleet is spying on him will most likely lead him to turn on you."

Tali nodded, "He won't hurt me, Admiral Raan. I have his trust. I'm just an innocent quarian engineer to him. He won't suspect a thing. And if I do get caught? I'll just pretend I know nothing. Works everytime."

Raan seemed happy with that, which stood in direct contrast to the feeling of betrayal and melancholy Shepard felt building in his chest, "Very good, Tali'Zorah. Go in peace. Keelah se'lai."

"Keelah se'lai," was Tali's barely heard response as the memory was whisked away, and Shepard was shoved back into the present.

When he next opened his eyes, he found himself slumped against the console he had been studying. He quickly stood up, his cybernetics quickly compensating for the muscle strain, and when he looked back, he noticed the prothean hologram was gone, replaced by nothing but the dim console he had been analyzing before. But he wasn't focused on that anymore. He focused on what he had seen, what he had observed. That prothean had shown him a memory he had never seen before, but his mind seemed unable to conjure up a way to question it, to scrutinize it. Despite everything he thought he knew, he couldn't bring himself to question the validity of the information that had been provided to him. It was...irrefutable.

 _Tali...my Tali..._

 _Why?_

Out of all the people to betray his trust, to stab him in the back...he had genuinely thought Tali believed in him. That where Ashley had spat in his face and called him a traitor and where Liara had casually waved him off and told him 'sorry. Shadow Broker issues. More important', that Tali had his back. That she could ignore the enemy of her people in favour of fighting by his side. That she...that she...loved...him...

 _It was all a lie. She never loved me. She never believed in me. The only reason she's here is because the Fleet sent her to spy on me. To use me. Haestrom...the trial...all of it was manufactured to allow Tali to get closer to me...she used our relationship as a...means to get closer to me..._

Betrayal was suddenly replaced by anger, and he couldn't help but snarl as he lashed out and slammed a fist into the nearby wall, denting it with the sheer force of the impact. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he forced them away as he activated his comms.

 _I need her to admit it to my face. I need to hear her say the words before I...before..._

In truth, he didn't know what he'd do.

Barely waiting for a response, he spoke, unable to keep the anger from seeping into his voice, "Tali...I need to see you. _Now_."

* * *

Garrus didn't know what to expect when Shepard called him into the room he was in rather curtly and, uncharacteristically, angrily. Had Shepard found somekind of atrocity the Blue Suns had left as a parting gift? Garrus knew first hand what Shepard was capable of when he was angry. What he did to Elanos Haliat on Agebinium, Jeong on Feros, Saleon on the _Fedele_ and that ExoGeni researcher on Nodacrux...it was a side of Shepard he understood, but wished to never see again if he could help it.

When he walked into the room, he hadn't failed to immediately note the fist-sized dent in the wall beside the console Shepard was now leaning against. Shepard hadn't even bothered to look up to the acknowledge the turian's entrance, simply speaking up with a gravelly, strained voice, "I need you to be ready if this goes south."

Garrus frowned. _'if this goes south'? What are you up to, Shepard?_

"What's going on, Shepard?" Garrus asked, unable to help himself. Normally he wouldn't question his orders during an operation, already trusting him as a brother would, but things became different when Shepard was angry. The only person who seemed to be able to soothe him was currently there however, and he doubted Shepard wanted to have a sparring session in the middle of a prothean facility to relieve stress, so..., "Where's Tali?"

Only then did Shepard look up and address the turian, "I just need you to trust me, Garrus. No matter what happens, you say and do nothing."

 _Okay, now I'm really concerned...!_

Despite himself, the turian simply nodded, hand reaching down to ensure his pistol was there to use at a moment's notice, "I've got your back, Shepard. I just hope you know what you're doing."

Garrus couldn't possibly have expected what happened next. The door opened on the opposite end of the room and Tali walked inside, immediately taking notice of Shepard and walking up to him, her shotgun holstered on her back, "John? You wanted to-"

"Don't call me that."

Both Garrus and Tali's heads whipped to face the Commander, looking at him as if he'd gone mad. His tone was full of malice and venom, something he had directed entirely at Tali. He actually seemed offended at the idea of Tali using his first name. _What in the spirits is going on? Has Shepard lost it? Does he have a concussion?_

It was Tali who spoke up first, Garrus having sworn himself to neutrality from whatever was going on, "John, are you alright? Have I-"

Shepard stepped forward, the motion actually causing Tali to flinch backwards slightly as he stood at his full height, almost towering over her as the sight of him in his Blood Dragon armor turned him into an imposing figure, "I _said_ don't call me _that_. You've lost the _right_ to call me that..."

Garrus internally screamed. _Spirits, guide me! Shepard is going insane! I cannot believe I'm hearing this!_

Unbeknownst to Garrus, Tali was just as baffled, "I don't understand, why are you-"

She didn't even get to finish, Shepard crossing his arms as he looked at her, fury in his gaze as he tore his helmet off and tossed it to the ground angrily, the loud bang being enough to startle anyone if it wasn't for the trio being used to sudden explosions and gunfire already, "Don't you dare fucking play me, Tali. It's over. I know what you've been doing, why you're really here. Did you think I wouldn't find out eventually?"

 _What?_ Tali couldn't fathom why he was acting like this, or what he even meant. Was he referring to the call she got? If so, how did he find out? And if he did, why was it enough to anger him? Surely he wouldn't be furious with her over something as trivial as that...no, there was something else going on. And she had to find out. As diplomatically as possible, she opened her mouth to speak, but Shepard continued his rant without taking notice.

"After all I've done for you, after all I've given you...all I've asked for is your loyalty, belief and trust in me," he snapped, completely unhinged as he flung venomous insult after insult at her, "And in the end, it didn't matter. None of it did. I was just a tool to you. A pawn in your little game."

Knowing using his first name was only going to anger him further, Tali decided to placate him, and once she finally had room to speak, she did so, speaking as softly as possible, "Shepard, look, I can't help you if you don't tell me what you're talking about. I don't know what I've done to anger you-"

" _ **ENOUGH**_!" he charged up to her, the quarian backing up until she was against the wall, while he continued to advance, moving until he was mere inches from her, his face almost touching her visor as spittle erupted from his mouth, anger and fury clear in his eyes. It terrified her, but only because she had seen what happened to those at the receiving end of it, "Enough of the _lies_! You may have fooled everyone else, but I'm not falling for it any longer! You said you could just play the innocent quarian card, but I can see through that now."

Her voice still soft but trembling, the quarian tried her best to reply, "Shepard, please...I don't...what do you mean...why are you doing this..." she almost sobbed, finding herself unable to look into his eyes for fear of seeing the murderous intent behind them.

" _When_ will you just _admit_ it!" he snarled, backing away from her, "You were _spying_ on me! For Raan! For the Admiralty Board! Your entire assignment to the _Normandy_ is based on the Migrant Fleet's attempts to get me to trust you enough to leak my secrets to you! So what have you told them, huh? Did you tell them about the nightmares I have of thresher maws? I bet you had a real giggle about how easy it is to comfort me."

 _Admiralty Board? Spying?_ _ **Raan**_ _? What is he on about!?_

Still trembling slightly from his tone, but mustering the courage to stand up to him, she took a tentative step forward, finding herself licking her lips hesitantly as she forced herself to look at the bristling Shepard, the man she loved converted into a raging, feral beast, "Spy on you? Shepard, I don't know what you're talking about. I joined you because I believe in you, because I _love_ you..."

He shook his head, waving a dismissive hand, "You still can't admit it. Even when you've been found out, you still can-"

"What are you _basing_ this on!?" she snapped back, finally unable to remain meek. He had done nothing but yell at her for seemingly no reason since she was called up here, uttering harsh and cruel words that hinted at sinister suggestions and implications. He was effectivelly calling her a traitor, a term that hit her deep and threatened to tear her apart, but she could no longer just stand there and take it, "You've done nothing but throw accusations at me since I got up here! What is making you say these cruel things, John?" she noticed him bristling at the use of that name, but she ignored him, stepping forward more and more. Finally, she grabbed him by the shoulders, forcing him to look at her, "Jonathan Shepard, you will look at me and tell me exactly _why_ you have the _goke'a_ to call me a _traitor!_ "

He snapped up to look at her, and despite the look he held chilling her spine, she forced herself to not look away, "I saw it, Tali. This prothean AI...it showed me a memory. _Your_ memory, I'm guessing. It was after Freedom's Progress, but before Haestrom. Raan was giving you a mission to spy on me. Even said that you could convince me to sleep with you if it would garner more information. You only joined me to figure out how far I'd fallen. To see if I was a _threat_. And this entire time, I was foolish enough to think you loved me..." the anger, for a brief moment, seeped away, revealing what lay underneath it all.

Hurt. He felt betrayed. It nearly broke her heart to hear it.

Suddenly, she shoved her away, roughly and without the gentle touch she was accustomed to from him. He stepped away from him, as if disgusted by her mere presence, and she felt herself shrinking back into her old habits, fingers fidgeting at her waist. He raised his voice once more, hateful rhetoric once again replacing any semblance of rational thought or critical thinking, "You're just like Ashley. She didn't trust me. She practically called me a traitor. A disgrace to the human species. She didn't believe in me...she abandoned me. I thought you and Garrus were different...at least Garrus hasn't betrayed me," he turned to her fully, the hurt in his eyes showing itself ever so briefly before he steeled himself, "But you...I thought you believed in me. You were always there for me. To learn it was...all a lie...you were only there for information. You didn't give a damn about me."

Her fists clenched, "That's not true!" she snapped, "I would never betray you! I _do_ believe in you! John, this is all a-"

"DON'T FUCKING CALL ME THAT!" he whirled suddenly, his body a blur as his fist once again slammed into the bulkhead, followed by another, and another. When he was finished, he would no doubt have a lot of broken knuckles, but the wall itself showed the wear and tear from Shepard's assault far more nakedly. Tali swore she heard a sob, and if Garrus' head turn had meant anything, he had too. She had almost forgotten the turian was there...he had remained silent, stoic...a quiet observer. What thoughts were running through his head? Was he just as confused as she was?

He turned to her, any semblance of his sorrow gone, "Don't...don't ever call me that again. You've lost that right. I can't believe I trusted you. After everything we've been through and done together. I stood up for you at that trial when nobody else would. I came for you on Haestrom when Miranda told me you weren't worth the trouble. We even survived the Collector Base together, side by side. I...I almost died trying to save you. I would have willingly died to protect you," in the end, the vehemence drained from his posture, and he seemed to slowly slouch, sapped of his energy and the melancholy etching into his voice more and more, "I can't...believe it...all of it...it seemed real. What we had...I thought it was real. I genuinely thought you were different. I even considered...thought of..."

If anybody was to ask Garrus what he thought, he'd put them on hold for a few hours, maybe even a week. _Spirits help these two...Tali, what have you done?_

Tali waited for him to finish, but he never did. He simply stepped back and wordlessly collapsed against the wall behind him, unable, _unwilling_ , to even look her in the eyes. She looked at the ground, unable to look at him either, wondering where it had all gone wrong, and just what she could have done to fix it. She knew she wasn't guilty of what he was accusing her of... _Ancestors, I don't even know why a prothean AI would feed him such lies...what does it gain from that?_

An idea dawned in Tali's head, and she realized, in Shepard's state, that it was a foolish one. But if she could not rely on trust alone to win him over, words were useless and she needed to take action. She had to show her devotion to him. She needed to show him she meant business, that what he said wasn't true.

 _Keelah, I'm going to pick that AI apart if I survive this..._

"Shoot me," she stated, simply and to the point.

Garrus' eyes widened, and he turned to Tali for a brief second. _I just hope these two-wait, what?_

Shepard's head snapped up, eyes unfocused as if trying to articulate what Tali had just said in his mind. Unlike Garrus, he voiced his confusion, "What?"

 _Its the only way, Tali. Be strong._

She stepped forward, holding her arms up in defeat, "If you truly believe what you said, if you honestly believe I'm a traitor, then I deserve death. Shoot me."

Shepard turned to Garrus, looking for direction, like a child looking to his parents for instructions. Garrus ignored him, looking straight at Tali as if she was crazy. _If someone had told me this morning that Shepard would accuse Tali of being a traitor and then Tali had asked Shepard to execute her...spirits, I'd have laughed them out the airlock. This is...I can't even...Shepard, this is beyond...this is a whole 'nother realm of..._ _ **fuck**_ _!_

Seeing as Garrus would not be helping him, Shepard turned, gulping, "I..."

Her confidence boosted somewhat, she stepped forward, arms still spread out, "Come on Shepard, what about Haliat? And Saleon? And that ExoGeni researcher, and don't forget Jeong! They all got justice. So shoot me. I deserve death, don't I? I'm a spy."

"But I don't...why are you..." for once Shepard, the word connoisseur, a man who could whip up an improvized argument out of thin air in a trial room to convince an entire panel of admirals to convince them of one quarian's innocence, was tripping over his own words.

Another step, "Because you're wrong, and I think even you know that. I didn't join you to spy on you. I didn't say 'I love you' because it would get me closer to you. There is no secret mission."

He shook his head, holding his head in frustration, "None of this...makes any sense...the memory...it _seemed_ real...no, has to be true...you're lying...trying to deceive me..."

Another step. She was barely a meter from him now, but he still hadn't drawn his weapon. That was good. She could sense she was getting to him. _Please John, be stong. Listen to the truth in my words. I would never betray you._ His words to Garrus in the shuttle, about how she would never betray him, seemed almost ironic now, like a cruel joke played by the ancestors to mock Tali'Zorah's existence, "That's absurd, John. You know me. You've...seen my face. You can tell when looking into a person's eyes when they're lying, especially when they haven't had practice doing it...my face is hidden away all the time. I don't need to practice lying."

"You..." she knew she had him, and in that moment, there was only one thing that could convince him.

Now directly infront of him, she crouched down, kneeling just infront of him, and did something she knew she would regret later. She reached up, flicking the catches on her visor, and carefully removed it, holding it so as to bar Garrus from seeing it. There was only one man she trusted to see her face, and while she trusted Garrus like family, he wasn't the man she loved.

"Look at my face and tell me I'm lying."

Although clearly reluctant, he did just that, and in that moment, she saw the single tear that had streamed down his face. It was too much for him. He could take a man like Wilson betraying him: a stranger. He could take Ashley calling him a traitor: a friend, yes, but a soldier with a duty to the Alliance. But to have someone he'd go out of his way to protect, even die for, the person he had confided his worst fears to, had laid in bed with as comfort, had laughed and cried with whenever they needed it, betray him...that was the nail in the coffin. It would break him.

For several seconds, neither of them said anything. He simply looked into her eyes, captivated by the silvery orbs that peered back at him, and she looked into his. She could see the subtle changes in his mood: anger gave way to sadness, sadness giving way to realization, realization giving way to...well, she wasn't sure what emotion he felt now. He looked blank. Devoid of emotion.

Finally, after a moment or two, "But I don't...understand...it seemed real...the evidence, it was irrefutable..." There was no conviction in his words now. He echoed them unbelievingly, and in that moment, Tali knew she had convinced him. Her John was back, and the lie that had been cast over them had been thoroughly destroyed. Instead of putting her mask back on straight away, she reached up and stroked his cheek, knowing the action would comfort him.

"I don't know, John...maybe that AI is toying with us," she was hit with an epiphany and, seating her mask back into place over her face, noting the look of wistfulness in Shepard's eyes as she did, she spoke, "Maybe...while I was down on the sub-level, I received a call from an unknown origin. They offered me a deal: provide prothean tech in exchange for new ships for the Migrant Fleet. I told them I'd tell you about it, and after I finished the call, I accessed this console and...it flashed me."

He frowned at her, sniffling as he quickly rubbed at his face, not wanting Garrus to see he had been close to tears. Nobody had seen him like that...nobody except Tali on occasion, and perhaps his own mother, "I don't understand...why would they call you to offer a deal? And why would the...console flash you?"

Noting how fuzzy she had felt after the flash, she shrugged, "I don't know...it just seems too convenient that I received a call, got flashed by a console, and then minutes later you're telling me a prothean AI convinced you I was spying on you for the Fleet."

Clearing his throat, Garrus added his own two cents, "She's right, Shepard. That does seem way too convenient. Do you think...maybe the AI was toying with you?" he frowned at that, watching as Tali stood up, offering a hand to Shepard. He took it, letting her pull him up, "Why would it even do that? What's the point?" deciding to add some levity to the situation, he smirked a little, "That reads like the plot of a crappy sci-fi romance novel. 'The AI who battled love.'"

Despite himself, Shepard couldn't help but chuckle alittle, although his shoulders were still sagged, "Who knows...all I know is that I just made a big fucking fool of myself," he turned to Tali, his eyes and voice softening, "Tali...what I said...I'm so sorry. You didn't deserve that...I'm such a fucking idiot..."

Sighing, she reached up and pulled him into a hug, ignoring his muffled protests as she pressed his face against her shoulder, stroking his hair, "Ssshhh...its okay."

"No, it isn't..." he mumbled, "I doubted you...I questioned your loyalty when I shouldn't have. You've done nothing but constantly fight by my side...even went out of your way to put yourself in danger to watch my back. Not even a spy would do that..."

She smiled. _No, they wouldn't,_ "They wouldn't take off their mask just to prove to you they were lying either...unless they're not quarian or just a really over confident one..."

He actually laughed at that, the sound vibrating through the shoulder of her suit, "I don't know of many quarians who are willing to go that far...unless you're saying Reegar would do that."

She giggled, pulling him back. Anyone else would think they were crazy: just moments ago he had been yelling in her face and she had been asking him to shoot her: now they were wrapped in a tight embrace, giggling like a pair of maniacs. Only on the _Normandy._

More softly, she whispered, "I just hope it was worth it...all that bacteria...I think I'm going to be running quite the fever by tonight."

He pulled up in alarm, looking her in the eyes, "Will you be alright?"

She nodded, "I will be now."

He frowned, shaking his head, "You know what I meant."

Stroking his cheek, she gave him a single nod of reassurance, "I'll be sneezing up a storm John, but I won't die. I just don't think I'll be available for ground missions for at least a few days..."

He grinned, pulling back, before wiping it from his face. Taking her hands in his, he kneeded them gently with his own, "Tali, I swear I'll never question your faith in me again. I said some cruel things, and if you give me the chance, I want to make that up to you. I just hope what I said hasn't-"

She raised her visor up and tapped it against his forehead, "John, we will journey through this together as we have done since the Eden Prime War. We soldiered through that, we soldiered through this, and we'll soldier through everything else the galaxy throws at us. Garrus and I, we're here 'till the end."

A slight grin tugged at his lips, "I don't exactly want to cuddle Garrus..."

"Annnndddddddd that's my cue to step in," the turian coughed, bringing their attention to the forgotten turian, "Seriously, its a wonder why you even bother bringing me along if you two are going to get so infatuated with each other so as to forget I exist."

Shepard feigned shock, returning to his former self as he looked around to find his helmet. He quickly discovered it in Tali's grip, and the quarian returned it to him, Shepard nodding his thanks as he pulled it back over his head, "If you want a promotion to third wheel, Garrus, you're more then welcome to submit a request to Miranda."

The turian rolled his eyes, "Its only third wheeling if its just you two."

Tali just giggled, "You going to cuddle your sniper rifle, Vakarian? Calibrate it a little? Whisper sweet nothings in its ear and promise to pop its heat sink?"

Garrus just looked at her, mouth hanging open as he was finally left speechless. Even Shepard had to snort as he muttered something along the lines of "...too much information..." Turning to her, he whipped out his DMR, and patted the poor, flabbergasted turian on his shoulder, "Come on, Garrus. We'll get you back to the ship so you can cuddle with the main gun. We all know she's your real love."

Garrus ignored Shepard, pretending to look at Tali with a glare of disgust, "Tali, I promise you. No more dextro chocolate for the rest of your days."

She just smiled, whipping out her shotgun as she followed Shepard back out into the harsh winds of the planet to await pickup, having had enough of the prothean facility, "Remember Garrus. Boyfriend."

The turian made a comment about Tali being calibrated by Shepard under his breath, and it didn't go unheard.

Suffice to say, Garrus would be going straight to medical to get a few icepacks after the pistol whip Tali gave him for that comment.

* * *

 ** _The reason this prompt took so long to make is because I was actually debating whether to go all out on it. It was also difficult to make this prompt actually work without breaking character for Tali or Garrus. Shepard is easier, but at the same time, I have to make him somewhat reasonable, and not a complete fuck knuckle. He can't just have some AI tell him "Tali's a bit of a vagrant" and Shepard just go "WAH! TREASON EVERYWHERE!" No, it had to look irrefutable. Which is difficult to pull off!_**

 ** _The second dilemma I faced was how to end this. Believe it or not, I originally planned to have a really dark ending to this. It would either be a) Shepard executes Tali for treason, b) Shepard accidentally kills Tali when she gets too close and holds her in his arms as she dies, only realizing in the end that he was wrong or c) letting Tali live, but telling her he never wants to see her again. But all three of these scenarios rely on one simple fact: that Tali can't prove her innocence._**

 ** _Seriously, why the fuck would Tali just be like "yep, guess there's nothing I can do to convince you. Like, none whatsoever. Sad face." Bullshit. So sorry if this isn't the ending you wanted Rick O'Shay, but this is the best I could do. Not to mention this prompt was really dragging down my schedule. I wrote this and finished it today. Yeah, it took me a full month, but I did it. Hopefully Flashpoint can get back on its feet now._**

 ** _Anyway, hope you enjoyed this. Longest prompt yet. If you want to propose darker prompts that are perhaps shorter and to the point (that goes for everyone), go right ahead. Nobody said it has to be all fluff. Just remember: KISS. Keep It Simple, Stupid. A good rule to live by._**


	7. Snapshot 6: The Quantum Physical

_**Rob Sears, here's that prompt you requested. Enjoy everyone! This is a crossover of one of Rob Sears' stories! Hint: the chapter name pretty much gives it away.**_

 _ **Probably going to work in chapters like this. Do a prompt, then an Equilibrium chapter, then a prompt, then a chapter, rinse and repeat. I'll keep doing this until I'm out of prompts, unless I'm given more before then. That way I'm not neglecting either.**_

* * *

The war was over. They had won.

Well, the real war anyway.

Commander Shepard was pretty sure he had never felt such elation in all his life. He had fought countless battles and skirmishes, tangled with mercenary bands and defeated battalions, loved and been loved, led and been led, killed and been killed. The amount of campaigns he had served in would have left most marines agape. The amount of back-to-back engagements he had fought would have made most brass exhausted just thinking about it. And his success ratio was so high he might as well have been ticking off school assignments with his eyes closed. He had survived situations that should have killed him outright, such as walking into thresher maw nests, being attacked by tens of thousands of pirates, storming merc bases, being spaced and now...well, he had almost directly been hit by a Reaper thanix cannon, a weapon designed to slice _starships_ in half.

Either he was the luckiest SOB in the galaxy, or somehow God was real and liked him a lot. Shepard wasn't really going to question it either way. Gift horses and such.

Still, surviving such things wasn't all it was cracked up to be. The vids made it seem like heroes could walk off life threatening injuries like they were a mere tummy ache. Not so much as a wince. Blasto could lose a tentacle or two and look completely fine: such was the romanticism surrounding violence and war: an affair between two adversaries ending in inevitable victory for the protagonist, in which the protagonist by getting the girl/guy, and walking off into the proverbial sunset. Or, in Blasto's case, a supernova.

The real thing was hardly as...perfect. He had been found on the Citadel feeling like, and probably looking like, death incarnate. The heat of _Harbinger_ 's thanix beam had been so fierce, so intensely radiant, that his armor's outer plating had literally _slipped_ off, while the rest became grafted to his skin. He had third degree burns so bad that the doctors had considered classifying it as fourth degree. Virtually most of the vital bones in his body were broken, including all his ribs, three fractures in his skull, both his legs, his left arm and most of his right, a cracked collarbone...the injuries went on. And he didn't just walk them off: oh no, there were many times where screaming had been a tantalizing thought, a validation of the pain he felt. But his pain was represented in other ways: such as his facial expressions. Anyone who looked upon the Commander would see someone who felt exactly as they looked. Nightmarish.

They were at least right about one thing though, although he gathered that was due to his luck again. The protagonist gets the girl...and the happy ending.

From where he sat on his bed in Huerta Memorial, Shepard craned his head to look at said girl in question, a small smile peeling across his lips as he did. Tali'Zorah vas Normandy was sleeping peacefully, head leaning back against her comfortable looking seat while her legs were curled up infront of her, her chest moving up and down with her light breathing. The tiny motes of light behind her visor that denoted her eyes were nowhere to be seen, indicative of her slumber, her barely audible snoring too soft to be picked up by her vocalizer as it remained passively inactive. The only appendage not currently curled up with her was her right arm, which was draped across the bed, allowing her hand to gently clasp his left hand, holding his five fingers between her three.

While he had felt like death, there had been one person by his side through it all that made it worth the suffering. Ever since he'd been found in the ruins of the Council Chambers and taken to Huerta, she had not left his side even once. Of course, she had gone out to get food and such, even left to get the ocassional breath of fresh air, but most of the time, she was here, at his side. She even refused to sleep in the opposite room, choosing to sleep in the chair beside him. When asked why she didn't accept more comfortable sleeping arranagements, her only response was, "I'm a quarian. Comfort isn't the norm anyway."

Only Tali.

As such, it had almost been seven months since the end of the war. Since then, he'd been 'on the end', as they say, slowly regaining some of his former strength while healing from his otherwise fatal injuries. In the end, perhaps ironically, Cerberus had saved his life a second time, as the cybernetics they grafted into his body to bring him back to life the first time had ended up saving him from dying a second time. Their limited regenerative abilities had helped to fuse most of his more gaping wounds shut, while keeping his bones together long enough for doctors to been repairing the damaged tissue and ligaments. He would never make a full recovery, he had taken too much punishment for that, but he wasn't dead. He counted that as the only thing that mattered, and to Tali, it meant everything. He would never be able to serve as a marine ever again, that much was certain, as the doctors had informed him he would have a permanent limb in his right leg for the rest of his life, and that he would have some difficulty breathing for the next few years as well until his cybernetics readjusted his body. But none of that mattered, because as of this moment, he was retired.

Most older people would laugh at the idea of a man who hadn't even reached the age of 30 retiring already. Most of the time, they'd be right. But Shepard had aged more in the past three years than he had in twenty, his experiences and injuries bringing him to the brink, and leaving him with more knowledge than the standard grunt. He had worked with a prothean, fought genocidal sentient dreadnoughts, wiped out a race of insectoid slaves, helped end a thousand year old sterility plague, ended three hundred years of misunderstanding and hatred between creator and created...the list went on. He had experienced more in three years than most people combined, and considering the circumstances of what had just transpired...Shepard thought it acceptable for him to enjoy an early retirement.

Besides, who said he had to retire completely? Sure, he had only known the military life for the majority of his existence in the universe, but yet again, if he was accepting retirement into the family life, why couldn't he accept a more...simple job? He could train Migrant Fleet marines, do a course in construction, become an ambassador to Rannoch for the Alliance...anything. His new life was full of possibilities.

The old Shepard would have dreaded this moment. To some extent, the new one still did. But this time, the difference was he was absolutely sure he wouldn't regret it. He had someone to share this new life with, and for once, he could definitively say it wasn't a mistake.

The time was almost here. For seven months he had been cooped up inside this white, sterile room, unable to see anything beyond the same three walls and the glass window pane that allowed him to see the presidium down below. He had spent the first four months in a bed, and then the next three in physical therapy, trying to work back some function into his legs after their brief atrophy. During that entire time, the only thing different about his room were the people who came to visit him, and the numerous amenities afforded him.

And, of course, the gifts...

Turning away from his sleeping girlfriend, he turned to the desk on the right side of his bed, immediately greeted by a smorgasbord of cards, photos, letters, and more. In them was a microcosm of the galaxy's gratitude, 'thank yous' and 'get wells' from virtually every soldier and civilian from Earth to Omega. Marines, troopers, mercenaries, families, corporate employees, governmental staff...the list went on. Shepard had expected, but still been astounded, by the sheer magnitude of indebtedness thrown his way by both the common folk and people he'd be saluting at any other point in time. Dalatrasses, the asari president, the turian primarch, the quarian prime candidate...hell, to his infinite and eternal amusement, he even got a 'thank you' from Aria T'Loak of all people! Oh, he'd enjoy having that mounted on his wall for the rest of his days. Aria 'Queen of the Terminus and Omega, don't fuck with me' T'Loak, thanking _him._ If he could get away with it, he'd never allow her to live that down.

It was a tad overwhelming...all of it. Not only had they won the greatest and most significant conflict in galactic history, saving not just millions, but trillions upon trillions of lives, but he had done so without _dying._ It felt like a dream. He had even pricked himself to make sure it wasn't, and sure enough, the brief sting of pain assured him he was not, in fact, dreaming. This was real. This...unfathomable reality, this unbelievable victory, was real. He was not dead. Tali was safe. His crew and squad was safe. They had won.

Against all odds, they had done it. And now...he could finally rest.

That was probably the most relieving part. The rest. For three years, it had been one battle after another. No time to stop. No time to catch one's breath. Even during his shore leave, he had been forced to fight (albeit with his own damn clone), and when he was on break, he was reading status reports, writing up after-action reports and reviews, discussing with his crew, coordinating with military and government officials, drowning himself in the pessimistic undertones of constant defeats and death...every day ended with him in the shower, washing off the blood from his body, whether it be from him or his enemies, or getting stitched up in the med bay. Or, as it invariably always was, he did both. Even when he got time to sleep, he never really did. He just sort of _passed_ out. And even then, the nightmares offered him no solace. The screams of the dying, thousands upon thousands being turned into more of the Reapers' abominations, _Harbinger_ and its ilk taunting him with defeat after defeat, forced to relive the same faux-deaths of his crew over and over and over.

He had actually slept well these past few months...the best sleep he's had in years. Perhaps that's why he felt so restless...he wasn't used to spending so much time idle. To just _lie_ here, when there was work to be done. Already, his brain was wracking his mind, thinking of things he could do and should be done.

Then he stopped. He turned back to the peacefully slumbering Tali, and allowed himself a moment to look over her. He then smiled.

 _No...I made a promise. No more war. No more fighting. No more death. From now on...its just me and her. That's all that matters. We've done enough. What did Hackett say?_

 _"You saved the galaxy. Now let us rebuild it."_

 _Yeah...seems fair._

He was skeptical that Tali would adopt a similar mindset, but he knew she'd turn around, given time. She had always been the selfless one...that was one of the reasons he was drawn to her: they shared that in principle. Both of them were unwilling to let go of their duties. Loyalty meant everything to them. Tali would, without fail, insist she help with the reconstruction efforts on Rannoch, and he would let her. But he wouldn't allow her to be consumed by it. They had both known nothing but duty and sacrifice for most of their adult life, serving their respective militaries and drawing blood and sweat to keep both going. Now, they were needed no more. Their duty was over. They had won the war, and the galaxy required them no longer.

He blinked as he shifted slightly in the bed to sit up on the edge, but by doing so, he had shifted his hand slightly, and with it, Tali's entire arm.

He continued to smile as the two dots of light behind her mask slowly creeped open, the quarian dragged awake from her sleep. Her eyes narrowed, Shepard immediately knowing she was smiling back. Sitting back, head tilting forward, she proceeded to stretch her sore muscles, a series of audible cracks in response to her movement, the quarian sighing with relief at every relieved muscle. Finally finishing with rolling her neck, she sat up fully, nodding to him, "Good morning."

He squeezed her hand, and then let go as he stood up, allowing his feet to touch the cold steel floor, "Good morning, Tali. Sleep well?"

"I've certainly been sleeping better," she replied honestly, standing up as she noticed him standing, wanting to help him stand. He held up a hand to stall her, and she respectively backed down, choosing to instead watch like a mother hen as he straightened up and took a few tentative steps forward. Happy with his progress, he turned to her, grinning widely. Tali just laughed, sitting back down, "Its good to see you walking again."

He nodded in agreement, wiggling his legs a bit to test their strength. Feeling no lingering effects of his strenuous therapy, he sighed happily, "I'm just glad to be finally out of that damn bed. Felt like my legs had fallen off."

Tali just watched him carefully, nodding, folding her hands in her lap while her legs crossed in her seat, "Well, you'll be happy to know that Doctor Stoneman thinks you're ready enough to be cleared to leave today. He just wants one of their doctors to run a physical on you and you'll be good to go."

He winced at the very thought of another doctor poking and prodding at him. He'd had enough of doctors. In the seven months he had been here, doctors had been the only other constant companion of his other than Tali, and unlike her, they weren't a positive one in his hand. Injections, surgeries, checkups and god awful concoctions he had to drink...not to mention his exposure to the horrors of hospital food. Shepard was grateful for their help, but Doctor Stoneman and his colleagues were beginning to grate on his nerves, feeling like a lab animal with their constant scanning, prodding and stabbing...well, at least needles _felt_ like stabbing, anyway. He couldn't wait to escape their grasp and back into the world.

 _I've got a house to build. Not to mention seeking a new job. Commander Shepard...exploring for the first time the world of unemployment. That should be interesting._

"I know that look, John," Tali piped up, ever observant as she noticed the frown he had tried to hide on his face, "Believe me, I'm sick of this building too. But if it means you'll be okay, I'm willing to stick it out. So should you."

"Yes dear," he sarcastically drawled, sitting back down. Noticing that Tali was still watching him expectantly, he licked his lips and sighed, nodding, "Sorry, that was unnecessary. I know you're just looking out for me. As long as this is the last time I have to remain in a room with doctors for months on end, I can survive one last checkup. They are ungodly annoying, though."

"Tell me about it," Tali agreed, crossing her arms, "This one turian, can't remember her name, wouldn't stop asking me questions. I admire her enthusiasm...keelah, I found it a tad adorable, but it was like she wouldn't stop. All I wanted to do was get some sterilized dextro coffee and here I am, being ambushed on my way back up to your room and asked thousands of questions about quarians and you."

He looked at her, one eyebrow raised, "Dextro coffee? Since when do _you_ drink coffee?"

To her credit, Tali looked sheepish as she lowered her head a bit, idly rubbing the back of her neck: yet another human mannerism she had picked up from her time working with a mostly human crew, "...since the Horizon mission during the war. Let's just say I needed a lot of it after that hangover I had. I may have also gotten it from you, since I know you drink so much of it," she looked up at him, noticing the grin clearly evident on his face. She rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a light chuckle, "Keelah, you're such a bad influence on me. You've got me drinking your weird human drinks. Well...dextro equivalent of it, anyway."

Remembering what she had said earlier, he began to chuckle again, snorting slightly as he tried to keep it contained, "And...you called...you called that turian _adorable?_ Oh Tali, the irony!"

Tali was clearly confused at that, "What? What's ironic about that?"

He looked at her for a moment as if she had just stated eating head lice was a quarian delicacy. Then he realized that Tali probably wasn't aware of what her mannerisms and personality entailed, and began to laugh again, "Well, Tali, you're...how do I say it? You're adorable. No getting around that."

Tali, whether out of denial or an inability to accept that she wasn't being taken seriously, balled her hands into fists and shot her head up to glare at him, "I'm...I am _not_ adorable!"

"Yes you are."

"I am not! You take that back!"

"Make me."

"Don't tempt me, John Shepard."

"Oh no, she used the full name. What are you going to do? Cutesy me to death?"

Even Tali was beginning to smile at this point, genuinely amused by the whole ridiculous scenario. She began to stand up, hands poised behind her back in a position that told him 'I've got something to hide'. His grin only got wider as he took a step back, matching her step forward, "I'm warning you..."

His shit-eating grin remained plastered on his face, unyielding, "You're soooooooo adorable, Tali. You'd be a hit with the kids...I imagine you could-"

All the air was forcibly expelled from his chest as a sudden purple blur barrelled into him, tackling him to the ground. He grunted as his back hit the floor, arms hanging uselessly at his side, his grin temporariy left his lips as he prepared to take on a battle posture. Flashes of his old self flashed across his mind, telling him what posture to take, what his weapon of choice would be, how he would neutralize his opponent, how he would-

And he summarily ignored it. He wasn't in any trouble. He wasn't on some distant battlefield. He wasn't being tackled by an enemy whose intent was to kill him. He was...well, being tackled to the ground by an angry girlfriend.

Said girlfriend who was now straddling him, crossing her arms as she looked down at him, where he was pinned to the ground, "Ha! I win. Now we can discuss your unconditional surrender."

He grinned, holding up his hands in the universal gesture of surrender, "You got me. Although, in a way, I got you."

She raised an eyebrow at that, looking down at him quizzically, "How so?"

His smirk was back in full force, the impish expression communicating exactly what he meant, "Because I've got you straddling me, on the floor. A rather... _compromising_ position, wouldn't you say?"

He could imagine the blush on her cheeks, a mental image only aided by her stuttering, "J-John! Y-y-you _bosh'tet_!" her exclamation than dissolved into laughing, an infection that was contagious as he toon began to laugh at the absurdity of their situation, and she collapsed against his chest as her chest was wracked with chuckles, the two of them engaging in their amusement together.

After a moment, Tali composed herself, shaking her head, "You know...we should probably get up. If somebody walks in here and sees us like this..."

He shrugged, "I don't care what other people think. Besides, I'm comfortable where I am. Aren't you?"

"Well, yes, but..."

"Then its settled!" he laughed, wrapping his arms around her and pressing her warm body against his, enjoying the feel of her against him, even if it was her suit he was feeling. Without thinking, she tapped her visor agaisnt his forehead, and they looked deeply into each other's eyes. A few moments passed where they just held each other, Tali running a hand through his hair or stroking his cheek while he reached into her hood and rubbed the back of her neck, a spot she particularly liked being caressed, and a sensitive spot on the quarian body. He could hear her light breathing, signalling to him her enjoyment of his touch.

The moment seemed to go forever...until it didn't.

There was a light cough at the doorway. Someone clearing their throat, then a voice, "Well...when they said I would be meeting Commander Shepard, I didn't imagine this would be the first thing I saw."

Expeditiously, the two swung their heads around to find the person in question standing in the doorway, looking down at them with something of an amused glint in his eyes. Shepard, in the few seconds he looked at the man, was able to immediately see that he was human, with a surprisingly stocky frame (not anywhere near the level of a marine or army trooper, but with a decent amount of muscle), and draped in a bright white labcoat that seemed to be absorbed into the white background of the room he was standing in. He held a datapad in one hand, although this was currently hanging at his side, the man in question raising his eyebrows at the two on the floor.

"Oh..." John began awkwardly, cursing himself for getting so carried away. He could almost feel Tali's embarassment radiating off her as she practically leaped off of him, inelegantly backing away towards her seat as she gave Shepard room to stand up, which was an opportunity he took immediately, sitting up quickly as he rubbed the back of his neck, "...hey doc. Didn't see you there."

The doctor just chuckled, motioning towards the bed, "Not a problem. Just sit on the bed and we can get this over with. No doubt you're eager to get the hell out of Dodge."

 _Finally. A doctor speaking in terms I can understand._ He nodded silently, moving towards his bed once he had stood up and quickly lifting himself up onto its surface, turning around so his legs were dangling off the edge, and he was facing the doorway. Tali, recovering from her embarassment, nodded upwards at him, but gave no further audible indication of her current state of mind. Likely vexed, but otherwise, without regret.

Now that he wasn't focused on his previously compromising position, he had a much better look at the doctor who was treating him, and did a quick once over of him. As he had seen before, the man was surprisingly well built for his profession: not that doctors couldn't have muscles, but Shepard had seen so few of them with aforementioned muscles that it was quite a change to see one. Sure, they didn't compare to Shepard's, but considering his line of work, that wasn't surprising. Ocassional visits to the gym didn't compare to the rigorous and dogged training routine of an N7 special forces operative.

The doctor was a reasonble height for a human male of his age: standing at six feet tall, he was just under a foot shorter than Shepard was. He was broad shouldered, which only folded neatly into his already well thickset frame. He had blue eyes, with brown wavy hair that was cut short, ending just behind his ears. This was complimented by an equally brown, dense beard, which was cropped close to his chin, reminscent of the kind of beard Shepard before joining the marines and being forced to cut it.

Overall, he would have been an imposing figure had he been career military.

Nodding appreciatively at Shepard's compliance with his request, the doctor reached down and activated his omni-tool, "If you'll sit still, I'll run a quick scan. Doctor Stoneman tells me you have extensive cybernetic augmentation throughout your body, and its largely to thank for you still being alive."

Shepard just shrugged as the doctor began his scans, typing away at his omni-tool as he raised and lowered it, a thin beam of orange light rushing over him as it uploaded real-time medical data and information on Shepard's body straight back to the wrist-mounted microcomputer on the doctor's arm. He couldn't help but notice a noticeable, but fairly negligible, Los Angeles accent, immediately telling him this doctor had to have been from the UNAS on Earth, or was a descendent of someone who was, "Never really paid much attention to them before. Certainly glad they've helped me get this far, though."

The doctor chuckled, finishing his scan as he lowered his omni-tool, the holographic projector deactivating as he did, "They've saved you life, commander. Anyone else would be dead with the injuries you sustained. You're lucky that the most you'll get off on is a slight limp. I'm glad I didn't have to work on you."

Shepard frowned at that, "What exactly do you do exactly?"

Grabbing a small metal prong from his belt, the doctor proceeded to knock it against both of Shepard's knees, and was reasonably satisfied when they responded by jerking the lower leg up slightly, demonstrating that the limps were operating as expected. The right leg was a little sluggish on the uptake, but given how much damage it had suffered, this was likely expected, given the doctor's rather casual response to this as he nodded, jotting the information down on his datapad as he answered, "I'm an arthoscopic surgeon. I perform minimally invasive surgical procedures on joints. Suffice to say, I'm not qualified for large-scale surgery like your body would have required. Hell, I largely operate on the small-scale. I leave the big stuff to the PhDs. The big wigs."

Shepard couldn't help but laugh at that, noticing the doctor's rather sharp and forthright behaviour. He certainly didn't window dress his feelings like most doctors did. If he had an opinion, he stated it. He also didn't have much of a hubris, his confidence in his abilities carefully maintained. _Quite the acerbic doctor. That's a healthy change of pace._

Deciding he liked this doctor, he looked down, finally taking note of the man's nametag.

 _Dr. S. MacLeod._

 _MacLeod...sounds Scottish. Yet he's clearly American. Interesting._

"So...what's the prognosis, Doctor MacLeod?" Tali piped up, having now stood up and moving to stand at Shepard's side, her hands clasped behind her back.

The doctor looked at her briefly, then at Shepard, and then back to his datapad as he shrugged, "Still got a few more tests to perform before I can be sure. So far, I see nothing that Doctor Stoneman hasn't already informed me about. There's major deterioration in your right leg's motor function, but considering the damage, this is expected, even if unfortunate. I'll check your eyes next. The damage to your skull was quite severe, so I need to check that your optical nerves haven't suffered internal disfigurement. Close one eye and open the other, please."

Nodding, Shepard did as he was bid, Doctor MacLeod reaching up and prying Shepard's opened eye even further, bringing up a bright flashlight. The intensity stung a bit, but his cybernetics quickly adjusted. To his surprise, when MacLeod spoke next, it wasn't a medical statement, but a rather casual question, "So...I've heard some rumours going around the hospital. A friend of mine has been talking to your friend here," lifting away, he performed the same action on Shepard's other eye. Once satisfied, he pulled away and deactivated his flashlight. Scratching his beard, he smiled, turning to the friend in question, "Tali'Zorah vas Normandy, isn't it?"

Taken aback by the doctor's kindness and willingness to even speak to her, Tali's response was lethargic, until she finally nodded, "Yes...yes, that is my name. Nice to meet you, Doctor MacLeod."

MacLeod nodded, still smiling as he reached out and shook her head, "The pleasure is all mine, Miss Zorah. Its an honor to be meeting you two, let alone performing a physical on the great Commander Shepard. But I must know...is what my friend saying true? Are you two...? I'm going to guess it is, given your...state when I found you in this room just a few moments ago."

Tali stuttered, clearly blushing. Shepard, grinning from ear to ear, nodded, "Its true. Tali and I are together."

MacLeod exhaled deeply, as he held up his datapad, which now showed a series of letters from massive font to decreasingly tiny, "Please start reading out these letters to me, starting from top and ending at the bottom, please."

A few seconds later, Shepard finished, and MacLeod exited the program, nodding eagerly, "Your eyesight is excellent. Well within normal range. Superior to most humans, actually. You were able to read the bottom line. Normally, that's too tiny for the human eye to see. Except...well, except salarians and quarians actually."

Shepard frowned, surprised by this, "Quarian eyesight can focus that significantly?"

"Yes," MacLeod replied, "Quite well, in fact. My wife can see most letters at a high range, including this one time she-"

"Excuse me, sorry, but I think I misheard," Tali spoke up, breaking their conversation, "You...did you just say your wife is a quarian?"

MacLeod nodded slowly, as if this revelation wasn't that big a deal, "Well...yeah. Is there a problem with that? I assumed because you two were together, that you would be...amicable...to that sort of thing."

Shepard nodded, understanding the situation quite clearly as he reached out and squeezed Tali's shoulder, who had been moving to apologize, eyes widening as she realized how she must have sounded, "Tali didn't mean it that way. She was just surprised. I was too. Quarians don't engage in many interspecies relationships, especially among humans."

MacLeod scoffed, shaking his head, "A shame, isn't it? We have no idea what we're missing out on. And I'm glad you understand. I was about ready to, well, no offense commander, but I was about ready to-"

"-tell Tali to go fuck herself?" Shepard finished for him, matching MacLeod's hesitant smile as he waved a dismissive hand, "Don't make a deal of it. You have every right to be defensive. I've lost count of how many times I've had to defend my relationship with Tali to other people."

Tali was just as inquisitive now at this discovery, "I'm curious: was your wife on pilgrimage when you met her?"

MacLeod, reading his datapad, gave his usual acerbic answer, although now he was clearly done away with the professional undertones, "Yep. In fact, our meeting probably wasn't as...heroic, or pretty, as your meeting. I've heard how you two came to meet. Tali'Zorah, cornered by assassins, while Shepard raced in and saved the day, securing information to establish a galaxy-wide man hunt. Nya and I's meeting wasn't quite as...bombastic. Similar, but not the same. She was getting beaten by a bunch of thugs, and I rather stupidly tried to be a hero. Got my ass beaten for it, too. Got her to a hospital and then left. Didn't even see each other again until after the Battle of the Citadel. We met each other again through...pure coincidence," catching himself, he shook his head, "But you don't need my life story. Now, open your mouth."

Shepard did just that, giving a loud 'ahhhhhhh' as MacLeod placed a small pad on the bottom of his tongue, checking the inside of his mouth. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, he pulled back and Shepard closed his mouth, crossing his arms, "You're the first man I've met that's human who has a quarian for a mate. There's so few of them around I thought Tali and I were a unique set. Apparently not."

MacLeod just chuckled at that, "Oh, believe me, you almost were. I initially thought of Nya as just a friend. Hell, the idea of dating an alien initially weirded me out. I got over it once I realized Nya was the only person who actually offered me any happiness, and that alien or not, my life would be considerably more shitty without her," he grimaced, cursing under his breath, running a hand through his hair as he shrugged, "There I go again. Life story."

Shepard held up his hands defensively, "Hey, not your fault. Apparently I have a knack for making people spill their guts to me. I think its my carefree demeanour. Tali will tell you."

The quarian giggled lightly to herself, "Keelah, he somehow roped me into giving him a rundown of quarian history, politics and culture the first time we even talked in engineering. We spent hours just sitting there talking, back and forth, him asking questions while I answered. It wasn't until we were together that it was I who started asking the questions."

The doctor, lowering his datapad motioned for Shepard to stand up, so he did, "Guess that's why I felt safe talking about then. I don't usually discuss my personal life with others. I fought in London during the final battle, you know. Me and Nya were there."

That surprised Shepard, causing him to raise an eyebrow as the doctor instructed him to walk back and forth across the room, "You were? Why would an athroscopic doctor find himself in the middle of the greatest battle for survival in history?"

MacLeod just laughed, "A string of events. Nya had visited me on the Citadel just before, and that's when we entered a relationship. I missed her, so I agreed to a vacation to Earth with my friend, Josh. We went to Vancouver, actually. That's when the Reapers began their landings. Barely got out of the city alive. Spent the rest of the war running guerilla operations with Alliance and UNAS forces. I...lost my friend during most of it. Eventually reunited with Nya in London when the resistance began mobilizing in Britain for the UGC's liberation force. I alos die-" he cut himself off, clearing his throat, "I mean, I _almost_ died. Pretty fucked, really. There's my London story. A few months later, Nya and I got married."

Walking back from the window, Shepard smiled, "Sounds pretty hectic. Seems like you've seen some combat. Explains the forthright attitude. You're not like most doctors."

MacLeod just snorted as he typed down on his datapad, "I'm no soldier. My involvement in the Reaper war was pure circumstance. Hell, I avoided most battles like the plague. That's why Nya's in C-Sec and I'm in athroscopy. She's a pilot, you see. Loves to fly. Probably the best damn pilot I've seen."

Tali nodded in appreciation, "I think she'd love to meet Joker."

Shepard shook his head in mock disappointment, "You know that's not fair, Tali. Joker could break a shin bone just trying to show off."

The doctor sighed as he lowered his datapad, simply looking between the two of them for a moment, before chuckling again, "Its a pity my wife isn't here. She'd have loved to meet you, Miss Zorah. She admires you. She...uh, paid close attention to the events of your trial on the Fleet."

Tali was shocked by that, "My...my trial? Why would she be interested in that?"

The doctor winced, realizing he may have let slip another piece of information he shouldn't have, "I...won't give any details, but let's just say my wife knows what its like to be put on trial for something your father did. Only difference is...Nya spent her entire life on trial."

Tali and Shepard looked between each other for a moment, but made no further comment, as it was clear the topic had noticeably downed the doctor's spirits, and was a touchy subject. Within moments though, he was back to talking, asking Shepard to lift his arms and hold them up for a minute. Shepard did exactly this, and waited patiently, while Tali just watched. Seeing an opportunity to ask another question, MacLeod spoke up again, "So how did you two come together?"

Tali, noticing Shepard was busy, answered in his stead, "Through a lot of trial-and-error. We both had feelings for each other early on, but never acted on them for fear of alienating the other, or for some stupid idea that we weren't compatible. The typical 'he's a human, I'm a quarian' argument, basically. In the end, we both decided we didn't care, and we made it work. So here we are, still together, one year on."

"Is it true you shouted down the quarian admirals?"

Tali laughed at that, rubbing the back of her neck, "Well, John did most of the shouting. I helped where I could."

"I hope you gave the fuckers what for," quickly backpedalling on his language, he awkwardly coughed, "Excuse the French."

"Tali's done her fair share," Shepard admitted, "Like that time she came to my rescue when I fell through a fish tank."

"Oh keelah, don't remind me," Tali giggled, "Is it morbid that while I was in the middle of a firefight, I couldn't stop laughing? You tell me you're in trouble, and then I learn its because you were attacked by mercs and fell through the floor of a sushi place, which just happens to be a fish tank?"

"My loving girlfriend," Shepard drawled, "Finding amusement in my dire circumstances. I could have died, you know."

"Oh please, you were in no real danger," Tali stated in her mirth.

"I doubt a fish tank would have ended the great Commander Shepard," MacLeod backed, clearly not wanting to join this argument between lovers.

"It very nearly did," Shepard continued, lowering his arms as his minute was up, the doctor quickly noting this down, "And my girlfriend, ever the concerned one, was laughing when I finally caught up with her. _Laughing_."

"Well, it _was_ funny," Tali added.

"Maybe just a little," Shepard admitted.

Still chuckling a bit, MacLeod nodded, "Well, I see no reason to keep you any longer. Everything checks out. Heartbeat is normal, arms show no signs of fatigue, your eyesight is perfect and most of your limbs are functional. I'll inform Doctor Stoneman that you're cleared to leave."

Shepard and Tali breathed a collective sigh of relief, "Finally. Can't wait to get out of here and do something other than lying around all day."

"I hear that," MacLeod declared, raising an eyebrow at Shepard, "Where will you two go now that the war is over?"

Shepard and Tali's eyes met for a single moment, and Shepard smiled, turning back to MacLeod, "Once my discharge papers are cleared, the one place that will be my home for the rest of my life. Tali and I are going to Rannoch."

That surprised the doctor, but only a bit, "Shit? Me and my wife were thinking of visiting there later this month. She's always wanted to see what it was like."

"All quarians will want to visit it at one point or another. It is the homeworld, after all," Tali stated, reaching up and snaking one arm under Shepard's, resting her head on his shoulder gently, "Shepard and I plan on living there. We've been fighting for a long time, and its time we got our due."

"Couldn't agree more," Shepard agreed, smiling warmly down at her.

"Whatever the case," the doctor began, deciding it would be a suitable place to snap a salute, despite not being in the military, "Its been an honor to meet you both. You saved the entire galaxy from the Reaper threat, and you gave the quarians back their homeworld. On behalf of my wife...I thank you."

Shepard reached out a hand, and MacLeod quickly took it, shaking it with a firm grip that Shepard, given the man's stature, wasn't surprised at seeing, "Its been interesting to have met you, Doctor MacLeod. You're not like a lot of doctors I've met. Its a pity we don't have more like you."

Tali shook his hand as well, gleaming behind her mask, "And tell your wife I said hello, and that she has every reason to be proud of who she is. And that if she does visit the homeworld, be sure to drop by. We quarians have got to stick together."

Doctor MacLeod bowed slightly, "I will make sure to do that."

Before they left, Shepard turned to MacLeod one final time, and nodded, "Its been nice meeting you, doc."

The doctor waved a dismissive hand, "Please...call me Sam."

Shepard laughed, but returned the gesture regardless, "Thank you again, Sam."

Shepard and Tali then turned and walked through the door, finding themselves accessing a new kind of freedom. It was the kind of freedom few got to experience. The kind of freedom that most fought, but unfortunately, died for. It was the kind of freedom Shepard and Tali now had all their lives to experience, and it was one the old Shepard would have dreaded.

The beginning of a new life, free from war. The new Shepard couldn't have been happier.

* * *

 _ **Well, there you go. John Shepard and Sam McLeod have finally met. I hope you enjoyed the crossover. It was definitely fun to write.**_

 _ **Up next will be a new Equilibrium chapter. I can't wait to get the ball rolling with that story.**_


	8. Snapshot 7: Shepard vs Cookbook

_**This prompt is for Ulfbrandt. I know you've been waiting a long time for this, so I hope you enjoy it. This prompt is more simple than the ones I've been given previously, which isn't bad: in fact, its good, because it gives me less to work on and more to improvize. I like improvizing.**_

* * *

It was a warm, beautiful day on Rannoch. The sun was just cresting the horizon, Tikkun's light bearing down on the inhabitants of the reclaimed world. Even now, as Shepard sat in his balcony chair, sipping lightly at a freshly brewed cup of hot coffee, clad in nothing but a pair of boxers and his jet black dressing gown, N7 cap seated firmly on the crown of his head, he could see the blinking lights of distant vessels travelling in the distance, whether it be in orbit of the planet or travelling through its atmosphere.

He took another sip of his coffee, smacking his lips after he felt the pleasant sting of the hot liquid pouring down his throat. He rubbed at his sore eyes, a protest against his body's premature awakening from its comfortable slumber. He straightened his legs, waiting for them to give a round of satisfying pops and cracks before bending them again, his entire body taut as a bowstring. To be fair, he hadn't exactly had the best sleep.

It wasn't something he wasn't already used to. The first few years of his life here on Rannoch had been just that: sleepness nights ruined by impetuous nightmares that always ended in him sweating, hyperventilating and so completely awake that he could not possibly go back to sleep. Sometimes his rude awakenings would wake a concerned Tali, or she would sleep right through them, depending on how exhausted she was. Despite her initial concern, she had learned to accept, as had he, that these nightmares would continue to occur for a few years to come. Post-traumatic stress wasn't something that disappeared over night, and he had many monsters in his closet. In the end, she would either wake up and comfort him until she went back to sleep and he got up to move around...or she would continue sleeping, and he would get up and move around anyway.

Tali seemed to act as if his inability to sleep properly was her responsibility, something that had always baffled, but not surprised, him. As much as he loved her selfless demeanour most of the time, sometimes it just got ridiculous. He lost count of the times he had to tell her that getting a good night's rest herself did not automatically mean it was her fault that he wasn't. Hell, its not like he didn't sleep at all. He considered himself lucky to get the six hours sleep that he did every night.

He sighed, shifting slightly to get more comfortable in his seat before he rolled his neck in a 360 motion, illiciting a few more cracks for his efforts. Relieved, he sat back, scratching consciously at the heavy stubble that was now building unimpeded across his chin and around his mouth. During his time in the military, he had never really been afforded the time to grow it out, nor did regulations allow for it, preferring for any facial hair to be cropped close to the skin. Now honorably discharged, he could grow it out as far as he wanted, the former commander already taking full advantage of the new freedom afforded to him, and the many more he had accumulated. Tali seemed to like it. Or, at least, she hadn't complained about it thus far. He'd have to ask her at some point.

As much as he had been dreading it...he felt that settling down wasn't exactly how it had been drawn up to be. He had no urge to return to service. He didn't yearn to see combat again, although he did ocassionally fancy the idea in fleeting moments. He didn't feel bored, as there was plenty to keep him occupied now. He had a well paying job at the Hal-Bernard construction company in the capital of El'Tivv, and he was sometimes called into the human embassy for Rannoch to settle disputes between human, quarian and geth delegates if things got out of hand, which he was well compensated for.

It was ultimately all a front. The royalities he had earned alone, let alone what Tali likely had earned herself, from their retirement was enough to keep them well stocked for the rest of their natural lives. Shepard and Tali worked not because they needed the money at this point, but because they liked the idea of being useful, of contributing to society. Besides, if they simply spent their days lounging around in their house for the next 90 or so years, they'd grow bored very quickly. Not that they could ever get bored of each other...no chance of that happening. But that they'd quickly find themselves without anything to do. Working solved that issue, and just made them look forward to the times when they were together.

Today, of all days however, was the one where both Shepard and Tali got a day off. It was an important day, and one Shepard could never forget, even if he tried.

It was the anniversary of their wedding. More specifically, their 4th anniversary.

The two always made sure to get time off on their anniversary so that they could spend the entire day with each other. It had quickly become a tradition, so much so that by the second year their respective employers had pre-empted their decisions and made sure to clear them out for the date of July 16th every year. Or, in Tali's case, the admirals had seen to that task themselves. He had no doubt Shala had factored into that decision.

Usually they'd spend the day with each other at home watching vids, talking, going out to dinner, exercising together (the two preferred to keep to a strict regimen of exercising, despite neither of them actively serving in the military anymore) or, as they often preferred, making love.

As Tali referred to it, they 'kept it simple'. Shepard didn't have any reason to complain, and the two continued to find new and creative ways to spend time with each other, whether it be going to the beach (which was so close to their house they could see it from their bedroom window on the second storey) or other activities.

It was then that Shepard remembered their 3rd anniversary: he remembered it with near perfect precision. Funnily enough, he had slept well that night, and thus had woken up, for the first time in a while, to an empty bed. He could remember the sweet aroma of cooking meat in the kitchen downstairs, and thus had quickly gotten dressed and decided to investigate. And lo and behold, he had found Tali, his wife, cooking breakfast.

But not just any breakfast. She had been cooking a levo breakfast...for him.

Tali was not by any means perfect, no matter how much he loved to picture her as much. While she was an ingenious engineer (in his admittedly biased opinion, the best) and a prodigy with tech, but couldn't drive to save her life. She could be quite the diplomat when the time called for it, but was prone to losing her temper or getting frustrated easily. She was a beautiful dancer, but her singing was about as horrible as it was adorable.

Tali wasn't perfect, but he loved her anyway. Up to that point, Tali had been experimenting with cooking and preparing food when she wasn't working and he wasn't available, to varying degrees of success, either doing well or failing miserably. However, on that day, on that morning, Tali had decided she was going to do her best to give him a meal he would adore. She had combed every cookbook she could find, finding a levo dish she knew he would like, and then set about the task of making it. She had to have been up for hours preparing it before he got up.

Despite his initial apprehension at her cooking him breakfast, he had accepted the gesture as it was at face value: a wife wanting to enjoy her anniversary by cooking her husband a delicious meal. She had simply had a tube of nutrient paste, much to his chagrin, but she had shrugged off his concerns and simply told him to eat his breakfast: the meal in question a well done steak with roasted potatoes, pumpkin and peas, largely drenched in steaming hot gravy.

And, to his shock, it had been _delicious_. He didn't know how Tali had done it, but she had successfully made a meal that assaulted his tastebuds...but in a good way. All her self-training and practice had paid off, and the result was a breakfast meal she could take pride in. He had made sure to tell her what a great meal she had cooked, and together the two had sat down to watch an episode of _Citadel_ later that evening (an extranet show based on their escapades during the Reaper campaign, which was currently finishing up its fourth season and was actually quite good). Tali loved the series so much he had preordered an OSD copy of the fifth season for her birthday...something she had made sure to reward him for.

He sighed, picking himself up and off the chair as he stood up, taking another sip of his coffee as he took one last moment to inhale the air, the scent of salty brine invading his nostrils and causing him to wince slightly. The roar of the ocean waves could be heard nearby, a sound he found extremely soothing, and was something Tali and Shepard often feel asleep to, cuddling together as they simply allowed the ocean's majesty to lull them to sleep. The sound and view was part of the reason he had chosen this spot to build their home, something Tali had immediately agreed upon, with some insistence on having a bedroom that had a clear view of it. He certainly hadn't objected to that. What a view it was.

Gently edging the windowed sliding door leading to their private balcony open, he tip-toed into the room, making sure his presence wasn't noticed by the room's currently sleeping occupant. Said occupant was currently enveloped under a thick blanket, the quarian female taking up only her side of the bed. Light, peaceful snoring could be heard from her general direction, the quarian so thoroughly buried under the sheets, that all could be seen was a flash of naked, purplish skin and a mess of black hair. The remnants of her suit were packed neatly on the table beside her: they had crashed the other night, and thus had no time for their favourite pre-sleep activity.

Leaving his wife to her siesta, he reached the door and gently cranked it open, waiting until he was back in the hall before closing it again, the click of the latch moving back into place indicating to him he could let it go. He then tip-toed down the corridor and down the stairs to the lower level, and then turned left straight into the kitchen. Once in there, he placed his steaming hot mug down on the marble benchtop, and walked around it until he was on the opposite side of it.

There, waiting for him, was a datapad with a cookbook already brought up and ready to go, while two bags of groceries rested next to it. He exhaled deeply, before clapping his hands together excitedly, a grin stretching across his face as he reached over and grabbed a nearby apron, beginning to tie it around his chest.

Last year, his wife had gone out of her way to learn to cook so she could make him a levo meal. Now, he was going to repay the favour. Even if it meant his own personal humiliation in the process. After all, nothing in the military taught him how to cook.

 _Commander Shepard...defeated by a cookbook. He could conquer the Reapers, but he could not conquer dextro cuisine._

He could just imagine the news article that would come out of it, with a small chuckle. _"Commander Shepard, Saviour of the Galaxy, has his dignity destroyed by an amused wife who, ancestors preserve her soul, was forced to endure the horrors of a dextro meal cooked by a human military commander."_

Suffice to say, he was really hoping he wouldn't fuck this up. Tali had done such a good job last time that he had to really up his game. If she could do it, then he could. And if he could do it, he would _have_ to succeed. After all, it was their anniversary, and he wanted it to be something Tali would remember fondly, not look at in the future and have a giggle.

Reaching over, he quickly removed the necessary supplies from the bags of groceries and splayed them across the bench, before grabbing his datapad and looking over the cookbook recipe he had brought up: during the war and their frequent visits to Apollo's Cafe whenever they visited, he had gradually learned that Tali's favourite meal to indulge in was an ancient quarian recipe called _Tcem'paf'le_ (pronounced 'Tem'paf'lay', as he learnt from Tali, as he had butchered the pronunciation the first time he said it), which was somekind of bluish meat with giant chip-like side dish and a whitish dip. Tali had called it delicious, and that it was easily her favourite meal, and something she indulged in very rarely, due to her suit, lack of money and the nutrient paste she restricted herself to.

Well, not today. Today, he was going to learn to cook his wife's favourite dish. Even more pressure to not fuck it all up. Otherwise, he could potentially make the thought of her favourite dish tied permanently the thought of him fucking up its creation on their wedding anniversary. Wouldn't that be a memory.

 _Stop being so negative. Cooking can't be that hard...can it?_

The next hour of his time was spent reading over the cookbook in detail, absorbing as much information as he could about the preparing of the meat, how the sauce needed to be made, what temperature to cook the chips at, etc. By the time it was 8:00am Rannoch time, he deemed himself ready to begin.

The process itself took little less than half an hour. It wasn't nearly as complicated as he had believed it to be initially. The meat, taken from a native Rannochian animal called a _tilgra_ , was thick and juicy, comparable to a rump steak on Earth. It had to be aired out before cooking, which took at least ten minutes, and then the cooking of it took twenty minutes, especially if Tali wanted it well done, as she often did. The sauce was made from somekind of pea and a watery powder, which when mixed together and stirred up for ten minutes on end, created a paste much like what the final product said it should look like. And cooking the chips was the easiest part: essentially the same as one would cook wedges on Earth.

So within half an hour, Tali's meal was essentially ready. He took a deep exhale and sat down, picking up his cup of discarded coffee and taking a sip. He winced, unable to hold back a gagging noise of disgust as he poured the remnants of the stone cold coffee down the sink, before washing out said sink with water.

Stone cold coffee was a galactic sin. _Utterly revolting. Fucking hell._

He quickly proceeded to wash his hands, before stepping over and placing his hands inside a container underneath the sink. A humming sound could be heard as he felt a stinging, redhot cleansing beam running over his flesh. He cringed at the sensation, but retracted his hands only once the process was complete. Shepard had insisted on getting a decontamination suite for the entire house, allowing for Tali to walk around their home free of her suit, and only needing it when she left. This allowed her to wear a number of other clothes and to explore what she had sorely missed in terms of having the freedom to wear what she wanted. Of course, he certainly didn't mind when Tali decided to forego the pleasantries and remain...well, exposed. He didn't mind one bit, as rare as it was.

However, this also meant Shepard had to clean himself daily: when preparing food, his hands would inevitably get dirty, and no amount of pre-entrance decontamination would help that. As such, he had installed a smaller decon unit in the kitchen, allowing him to clean his hands thoroughly when he was finished cooking or otherwise had dirty hands. He would not, under any circumstances, endanger Tali's health, and his rigorous process of decontaminating himself needed to reflect that.

With a sigh, he removed his apron and placed it down on the bench, before sweeping up Tali's steaming hot meal and walking over to the table, placing it down at the end, where Tali sat, complete with the necessary cutlery and utensils. His seat was next to her, and he made sure everything was setup nicely before he moved to make his own breakfast: by comparison, all he was having was a simple bowl of cereal with a second cup of coffee to make up for the one that had gone cold. Soon, by 8:40am, breakfast was ready, and he was at the moment of judgement.

 _Either I fucked it up, or I nailed it. I refuse to acknowledge any middle ground. This is my wife, after all. There's no half-arsing it._

With everything set up and ready to go, all there was left to do...was wait.

Ten minutes later, he could hear the sound of padded feet plodding down the stairs, and a smile graced his features as he scooped up a portion of cereal from his bowl and munched on it, having been reading his datapad for news on the galaxy at large. He sipped at his coffee as he turned to address the newcomer, his smile only getting wider as said newcomer rounded the corner.

"Good morning, beautiful," he greeted.

The quarian gave a simple nod before she made her way behind the counter, looking for a cup. She had showered before coming down, that much was obvious, as her hair glistened from its dampness, and was brushed and neatly tucked behind her ears, flowing down to her shoulders. Her bright, silvery eyes frowned in confusion as she looked for her favourite cup, the quarian's body wrapped in a purple robe, and likely, just like him, wearing almost nothing underneath. Modesty was hardly a concern when it was just the two of them.

He cleared his throat, gaining Tali's attention, as her head rather comically popped up over the bench, looking at him, "I already made you a coffee, dear. Come and sit down."

Her grumpy expression (Tali had, over the years, developed into the antithesis of a morning person, and thus needed her coffee fix, just as he did) quickly vanished as it was replaced with a warm smile. It sounded cliche to say it, but it always made him warm up inside to see that smile. To see so much satisfaction and happiness wrapped up in a simple expression brought him his own sense of fulfillment. Despite her being happy over something as simple as getting her coffee fix, he still couldn't help feeling satisfied by her change of demeanour. That's just the kind of effect she had on him.

The quarian quickly worked her way around the bench and descended upon the table, her focus entirely on getting dextro caffeine into her system. But when she got into full view of it, she suddenly stopped and began to sniff, the smell of the meal Shepard had made for her hitting her nostrils at full bore. Within the moment, she turned to Shepard, a hand moving to cover her mouth, "John...is that...what I think it is?"

He nodded, proud of his work as he shoved aside the datapad he had been reading, " _Tcem'paf'le_ , just the way you like it. Happy fourth anniversary, my love."

"Wait..." she edged forward slightly, her eyes roaming the dish before her as if trying to find fault within it. After a few seconds passed, she turned to look at him, her shocked expression refusing to alleviate, "...did _you_ make this?"

His grin only got wider, "Well, you went out of your way to make me a levo meal last year, I thought it only fair I do the same for my lovely wife. And before you ask...I'm just fine with my cereal, thank you. Just enjoy your breakfast and tell me what you think."

If her smile could get any bigger, than it would have. Practically bouncing on her tiptoes, she reached over and grasped him in a firm hug, her arms draped around his neck in pure excitement. He chuckled slightly as he returned the hug, and she began planting several kisses on his cheek, before pulling back and nudging his forehead with hers. Leaning down and closing her eyes, she locked lips with his, and the two passionately made out for a few seconds before she pulled back, "Thank you so much, _neh'sah._ You didn't have to do this, you know."

He shook his head, giving her another peck on the lips before answering, "Nonsense. I wanted to. Is that enough of a reason?"

Her only response was a giggle, followed by one final kiss to his temple before she pulled back, pulling out her seat and sitting down in it, "Well, I can't argue with that. Keelah, it smells so _good_."

Her excitement was so infectious, he was beginning to regret not making himself some, not that he could. He just chuckled, scooping up another spoonful of cereal from his bowl, "Don't wait on me. Dig in. Tell me what you think and please...don't laugh."

She stopped for a moment, fork and knife clasped in her hands, frozen in mid swing towards her dinner. She looked at him, frowning, "Laugh? Why would I laugh?" She was being completely serious.

He looked at her, raising an eyebrow, "Well, I'm new to cooking, and I'm even newer to cooking _dextro_ food, so if I mess it up, or it tastes really bad...please, don't laugh."

She looked at him for a few more moments, before reaching over and grasping one of his idle hands gently, giving a smaller, but still genuine, smile, "John, I may joke and tease you about many things, but never something like this. I will never laugh at your attempts to make me happy, or when you do something like this. I'm just...proud that you even tried."

She patted his hand, before withdrawing it to pick up her knife again, descending into her meal. He froze up for a moment, ignoring his own cereal as he watched her with rapturous attention, eyes fixed entirely on her expressions. She quickly honed in on the _tilgra_ meat, slicing herself a sizable portion before stabbing it with her fork and bringing it up to her mouth. Quarians had a mix between molar and canine teeth, much like humans, due to their naturally omnivorous diet (although many quarians became vegan during the Exodus period due to a lack of meat and diary-based products by necessity).

In the moment that the portion passed her lips and entered her mouth, the quarian closing it to begin the chewing process, there was silence. He simply studied her facial expressions as they passed through the numerous phases of food consumption, waiting for the moment she was pleased with what she was eating, or the moment when she spat it out in disgust.

It felt like an eternity before she finally swallowed, and the quarian simply licked her lips, savouring the taste. In that moment, she turned to Shepard, looking pensive.

Then she grinned.

"That was...really good," she stated, already cutting another piece, this time to dip into the sauce he had made for her, "Certainly not masterful cooking, but for your first time...you did a good job, John. Now stop worrying and eat your cereal. I know how much you hate it when it goes soggy."

He grinned, giving her a mock salute before he returned to his meal, "Well...I'm glad you're enjoying it. I did want to do something special for our anniversary, so there you have it." _Well, not bad, Shepard. You're no connoisseur, but at least she isn't gagging in disgust. I can consider that a point up for me._

The rest of the morning was spent on the balcony overlooking the ocean, Tali thanking him for the meal and congratulating him on a job well done, while he simply held her in his arms and listened to her talk about everything she had done in the past week, from her meetings with the Admiralty to the celebrations of the 5th Annual Progenitor Day. And, as he sat there listening to her gratitude for the meal he made for her, he came to realize one thing.

He liked cooking.

* * *

 _ **Hope you enjoyed the prompt, Ulfbrandt. I certainly hope its what you were looking for. :)**_

 _ **Up next is Chapter 2 of Equilibrium, for those who are following that story.**_

 _ **Keelah Se'lai, troopers!**_


	9. Snapshot 8: In the Spotlight

_**This prompt is for CecilTheSeahawk (formerly WackyJack93). I've actually wanted to do this for a while, and at one point, was going to have it occur in a limited sense in IV: Holocaust (check outline, Asari monastery plot, for details). Suffice to say, never got to do it then, so I'm doing it now. This is similar in premise to Media Firestorm, but I'm hoping to put a twist on it. Should be interesting. Hope its what you were looking for CecilTheSeahawk. This one is going to be a little different in style to the other prompts, and I think you'll see why.**_

 _ **Also, for other readers, I recommend checking out Seahawk's first fanfiction, 'Summers of Mindoir', if you haven't already.**_

* * *

July 23, 2186.

 _"This...is the Alliance News Network, journalist Emily Wong reporting._

 _The destruction of the elcor spirit: Dekuuna falls after six weeks of relentless and brutal Reaper bombardment. UGC and ECD officials do not yet have an accurate estimate of the death toll, but the Citadel's Bureau of Statistics calculates the approximate death toll to be nearly 81% of total deployed forces, making it the most devastating military defeat for the Elcor Courts since the Sangel Standoff in 1899._

 _In a surprising olive branch, the krogan military has opened up refugee facilities in Tuchanka's previously abandoned Que'k Wastelands in an attempt to lighten the pressure placed on the Citadel's already overtaxed and overpopulated refugee population, which has increased tenfold since the Reaper's increased campaigns on Kahje, Irune and Dekuuna. The elcor Minister of Defense Xenlon, recently promoted to Head Judge after the formation of the elcor government-in-exile shortly after the first attack on Dekuuna, has made a desperate plea to the Council for military aid, but it appears that the Salarian Union and Asari Republics' recent descents into isolationism has yielded little sympathy from their governments. As such, Fleet Admiral Steven Hackett of UGC Supreme Command does not expect the asari and salarians to commit to a unified front anytime soon. He also does not believe that the elcor, much like the batarians, are going to remain 'combat effective' for much longer if they don't conserve their remaining resources._

 _In other news, victory from afar as the quarians and the geth announce a surprising new military alliance. After the quarians' sudden disappearance from the galactic map gave birth to numerous conspiracy theories ranging from Reaper colloboration to intergalactic exoduses, much of the galaxy had given up in expecting the Migrant Fleet to join the rapidly expanding war: some even believed the quarians themselves had succumbed to the Reapers' initial onslaught, and that the Flotilla was now but a footnote in the history books. But now, over a month since the war started on June the second, the quarians have reemerged, suddenly allied with the geth. And, to nobody's surprise, there is one man to thank for this bewildering and shocking new revelation: Commander Shepard._

 _It has only been a day since the announcement of this new alliance, but its newfound repercussions are already sending waves rippling through the galactic political sphere. Even now, Cerberus positions near the Perseus Veil have found themselves subject to numerous, victorious raids by joint quarian-geth strike teams. Numerous colonies under threat from Reaper attack, which the Alliance and Hierarchy had deemed irretrievable due to their forces being stretched too thin, are now being evacuated thousands at a time, with hundreds of Migrant Fleet vessels, as the colonial minister of Freedom's Progress put it, 'came out of nowhere and suddenly started shuttling civilians out.' It appears that Commander Shepard has, again, achieved something of a small miracle._

 _This is not the first time during the war that the until-recently-disgraced Commander Shepard has managed to pull a rabbit out of his hat. The first time was when he somehow managed to secure an alliance between the xenophobic and demilitarized krogan clans and the Turian Hierarchy. While the details of how this alliance came to occur seem to have been kept quiet from the public, the fact that the Union's response was to withdraw economic and military support for the Council and adopt an isolationist policy, coupled with the krogan's sudden eagerness to assist the Hierarchy, has done nothing to quell rumors of a possible genophage cure. Regardless of how it occurred, Shepard managed it. And then, not even three days later, helped to stop a takeover of the Citadel orchestrated by the pro-human Cerberus paramilitary group, which subsequently led to Hackett's 'official' declaration of hostilities against the 'Illusive Man and all those who would try to undermine our effort to destroy the Reapers.'_

 _This counts as the third time Shepard has achieved something miraculous, and with it, support for the UGC is growing. The announcement of the Rannochian Coalition, as the quarian and geth leadership are calling it, has come at no better time. With the fall of Dekuuna and failed evacuations of Kahje, morale was at an all time low: this new alliance has breathed new life into a galaxy on the brink of falling apart._

 _But, as seems to be the running theme, Commander Shepard, now being targeted for the title of 'Consul of the UGC', is not content with one surprise. No, this next surprise is not military, not economic, not political, and certainly not cultural. While small, this next surprise took the galactic media by storm._

 _Ladies and gentlemen, Commander Shepard has proposed. To a quarian._

 _This announcement was made mere days ago, just last weekend. But already, the extranet has exploded with a mixture of emotions. Some, especially many quarians, believe this to be the start of a new beginning for the quarian people, with some saying it symbolizes their gradual return to being respected members of society, while others, more conspiratorially, believe it is part of a plan by Shepard to establish stronger political relations between the Systems Alliance and the Migrant Fleet, in an effort to speedup the evacuation of Alliance colonies and a possible reclamation of Earth and the Sol system. Others still have chosen to sweep the politics aside, and look upon the matter more romantically: apparently, in the eyes of many, love conquers all. Even centuries of hatred between organics and their synthetic creations. Could Shepard's love for this quarian have motivated him to end the age old conflict?_

 _However, not all have looked upon the coupling quite so optimistically. Remember Shanxi representative Charles Saracino, who recently won a court case (Saracino v. The Council) to determine his innocence in the scandal involving Terra Firma's apparent association with the Cerberus organization, has called the relationship a 'sin against mankind', which will 'only fuel his already skewed misanthrophic views and turn him further away from his own species.' Others have adopted his views, some even calling for a review of Shepard's conduct and ability to lead. Some believe him to be biased, and that his sudden detour to the conflict on Rannoch was unnecessary and selfish._

 _Whatever the case, it is undeniable that the announcement of this marriage is deconstructing our views of Commander Shepard as we know it. This man's rise-and-fall from fame is something of a mystery in and of itself. From Hero of the Citadel, to ranting maniac. From Alliance poster child, to Cerberus colloborator. From humanity's champion, to destroying a batarian star system and murdering tens of thousands. From disgraced criminal facing extradition, to leader of the galactic war effort. One cannot be blamed for being confused as to whether Shepard is a hero or a villain...or perhaps even both._

 _More news on this marriage announcement and the Rannochian Coalition has it develops._

 _And now for sport. Over to you, Malcolm-"_

* * *

July 27, 2186.

 _"-and now we transfer over to Emily Wong at the studio where she will be conducting an interview with Admiral Zaal'Koris vas Shellen, commander of the recently established Rannochian Second Fleet. Over to you, Emily."_

"Thank you, Malcolm," Emily replied with a big smile as she shifted in her chair away from the camman drone hovering over her shoulder, quickly turning to face the object of her soon-to-be-started round of questioning: a well presented and postured quarian male admiral wearing a pinkish veil and with his head held high, back straightened. It gave off the air of someone with pride, "Thank you for joining us, Admiral Koris. We understand your time is very precious, and we're glad you were able to spend some time of it with us to answer some questions."

"Not at all. The pleasure is all mine," Koris replied succintly. He seemed like somebody who was well versed in answering questions.

Nodding, she looked down at her datapad, ignoring her teleprompter as she simply gave a simple one-glance look at the questions she was expected to ask. Emily was always one for improvization, so she wasted no time in getting down to it, "Admiral Koris, it'd be safe to say this is a great time for the quarian people, is it not? After all, your people have gone from, if I may say it, political pariahs and a nomadic rump state...to having your homeworld back, an alliance with the creations your people tried to destroy, and have joined the war effort with a bang. How does that make you feel?"

"That's quite alright, Miss Wong. I'm aware of my people's reputation in thw galaxy, as are all quarians, and we know too well the mistakes we've made in the past," he stated simply, as if he was clarifying points of fact rather than creating a defensive argument, "But all that changed just under a week ago. I could say it took my people getting over their prejudices and finally seeing the truth of the matter, but ultimately, that would be disingenious. No, the credit must go to Commander Shepard. Without him, none of this would have been possible. I misjudged the man, it would seem."

"Oh?" Emily retorted questionarily, "You didn't initially think highly of the commander?"

"Keelah, no," he elaborated somewhat glumly, "I initially believed he was naive and a brute. The first time I met him was during a trial...the details of which I can't disclose...and my initial opinion of him was less than stellar. But after talking to the man, and subsequently followed by his intervention in the war between my people and the geth...I've learned I was wrong. Not something I admit to often, I'll grant you. Those of the Koris clan have a history of being stubborn and prideful, and I'm no exception. But Shepard is no brute, and he's certainly not naive. No, he made my people realize just how naive _we_ were. By the Ancestors, anyone who can not only defeat Admiral Gerrel in an argument, but make him _ally_ with a _geth_ , is somebody to be watched very closely. You can certainly tell him that."

"So your people did go to war with the geth?"

There was an explosive sigh, "Unfortunately, yes. I'm not proud of it, and I'll make it clear for the record that I did not endorse, nor support, any invasion, and nor did the late Civilian Fleet. I'm just glad Shepard intervened when he did...or I might not be sitting here having this pleasant conversation."

"Can you tell us how Shepard achieved this?"

"I'm...afraid I can't go into details. The Battle for Rannoch, as I'm told, has largely been classified by the UGC for security reasons. They want to prevent knowledge of intelligence gathered from the battle to fall into Reaper hands, you understand. The war cannot afford security leaks."

"We at ANN, and I'm sure our viewers as well, understand the need for security integrity. After all, I don't think anybody's going to complain about classified information so long as it brings us one step closer to victory over the Reapers," Emily rectified, quickly moving onto the more pressing questions from the public. She felt her grin widening as she asked her next question, "Admiral Koris, there are some questions pertaining to a recent announcement that the Alliance public are just itching to know about. I'm sure you know what we refer to. What are your thoughts on this?"

That seemed to have caught Koris' attention, hands folded on his lap as he chuckled, "Ah yes, I do believe I know what you mean. Personally, I don't the commander and Admiral Zorah well enough to offer an opinion on what I think of them as people, but I can say this: they are two of the most remarkable people I've ever met. I mentioned before that my initial thoughts of Shepard were very low: the same could be said for our latest admiral. Miss Zorah used to be quite virulently anti-geth. She shared the opinion of most quarians that we should have reclaimed our homeworld eventually through force. As such, I despised what she stood for. However, ever since she returned to the Migrant Fleet eight months ago, she's been a completely different woman. In fact, she stood beside me as the only other admiral to vote _against_ going to war with the geth. A vote we lost, of course."

Emily quirked an eyebrow up at that, "And what, do you think, caused this change in opinion?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Koris asked, chuckling once more, "Shepard swayed her, I have no doubt. Ever since he revealed that he had a geth on his crew, Legion he called it, it had clicked in my mind as to why Admiral Zorah had changed her opinion on the geth. However, I also think it had, in large part, a lot to do with the relationship between herself and the commander. Working with them both was quite extraordinary. I've never seen two people so committed to ending a war peacefully. It was...a little inspiring, I must say."

"Admiral Koris, what do you think about this announcement of marriage by Commander Shepard last Thursday? Did you expect it?"

"To some level, I think I did. Quarian culture is very specific about how our relationships work. Once a mate imprints on the other, and vice versa, their bonding is all but inevitable. Yes, Commander Shepard is certainly not a quarian, at least not biologically or physiologically, but by observing those two in a room together, you wouldn't be able to argue the difference. So while I was still a bit shocked by the announcement, deep down, I don't think I was. It just seemed...natural."

"So you approve?"

"Of course!" the admiral excitedly declared, "As pretentious as it may sound, Miss Wong, I am believer in the human adage 'love conquers all', one I've taken a liking to. In the culture of my ancestors and my people, such an emotion trumps all others and is held to a near sacrosanct level of importance. Domestic violence is rare, and my people don't even have a word for 'divorce' in our language. It simply does not happen. If Admiral Zorah wishes to bond with the Commander, she means it...and no doubt, given the knowledge the commander has of my people, he no doubt understands the implications as well. He does not seem like a man who rushes into something blind. So, of course I approve. This shows that, nobody what species you are or your appearance, love truly can conquer it all. It doesn't always happen, but when it does...cherish it. After all, this is the very thing the Reapers are hoping to strip from us."

"That was...quite the speech, admiral. Thank you," Emily stated, wiping one eye to hide the fact a tear had almost fallen from it. Wong knew Commander Shepard already, and with her more romanticist side of her beginning to flourish, she could feel butterflies in her stomach just hearing about this. She was happy for the commander, but couldn't show that on livestream. After all, millions of people were watching at this moment. It wouldn't for Emily Wong, respected news journalist and reporter, to start crying in the middle of an interview, "I have no doubt that the quarian people will view this bonding as a step up politically."

Koris nodded, although the gesture seemed almost sad, "Yes, but unfortunately, there will be those who will only see this for the political value it holds, I'm afraid. You see, my people are deeply social...quite possibly the most social species in the galaxy. Five quarians in a room could debate the use of a shower for days and still not reach an agreement. And given the inherent nature of politics, you can no doubt see that it is a recipe for disaster. As such, the Provisional Conclave on Rannoch has been in much debate over this announcement, with some wishing to use it to make gains into a deal with the Systems Alliance after this war is over."

"Your people have only just entered the war effort and they're already planning for what comes next? Isn't that a bit premature?"

"As I said, my people are talkers. We always look forward to what happens next, just as much as we delve into the past. We rarely acknowledge the present as relevant. That method of thinking has kept the Fleet alive for three centuries, and as the human expression goes, 'if it isn't broke, don't fix it.' As such, my people are going to take time to...drop this mindset. I have no doubt the Conclave are already sending out ambassadors to discuss Council membership and an embassy. It would not surprise me if they used this bonding as political leverage. Although, to be fair, I somehow doubt the Alliance isn't at least considering it as well."

"You can never know with those in power, it seems," Emily returned, agreeing with Koris, "So, politics aside, you don't see any problem with this marriage? Many from both the Migrant Fleet and the Alliance have called out the bonding as a sham. A political maneveur to save face. A red herring used to distract from the fact we are losing the war. A lie to paint the quarians in a positive lie, and that Shepard is actually consorting with an asari named Liara T'Soni, with Admiral Zorah chosen as a quarian poster child to promote pro-human relations between the Fleet and the Alliance, as well as to make the quarians look more powerful than they actually are. Personally, I do not share any of these opinions, but what would you have to say to these people?"

Koris cleared his throat, thinking for a moment before replying, "Ultimately, I don't think it matters what your or I think. This is none of our business, and we can take it as we like, but when it comes down to it, this bonding is the private business of Commander Shepard and Admiral Zorah. I can't comment as to the nature of this bonding. I seriously doubt the validity of such claims as 'its a distraction' or 'he's trying to win points with the quarians', but I personally cannot refute or endorse them. What I can tell you is that I believe them to be extraordinary people, who have found happiness in each other, and that's a beautiful thing. Whether we like it or not is irrelevant. Whether we think its our business to prod and pry into the personal business of the galaxy's champion or a quarian admiral is irrelevant. What's relevant is that our opinion doesn't matter. When Shepard says he's going to do something, he'll do it, regardless of our approval. I know this because I've been witness to it...even been on the receiving end of it. If people want to offer their opinions, go right ahead. That's free speech. Just know that your voice is going to fall on deaf ears."

 _Well said._ Emily internally complimented, smiling massively, "Unfortunately, that's all we have time for. Thank you for taking the time for this interview, Admiral Koris. Its much appreciated."

"Oh, it is no problem, Miss Wong. I was honored to receive your invite to talk. Thank you."

"Stay tuned tomorrow for when former opposition leader of the Remember Shanxi party, Sir Ismael Bolton, comes in to offer his own opinion on this development. Back to you, Malcolm."

* * *

July 28, 2186.

 _"And we're back, with more information regarding the marriage of Commander Shepard and Admiral Tali'Zorah. The bonding ceremony is scheduled for 1300 on the 30th of July, 2186, and will take place on Rannoch, with the approval of the Rannochian provisional government. The wedding will be a closed media event, per the request of the quarian government, the geth and Commander Shepard, each for different reasons. Even so, it is projected that many important officials will be present for the event, among them Admiral Steven Hackett, all four of the Citadel councilors (in a surprising move), Overlord Urdnot Wrex, and many more. News of the event will be released to the public after the wedding is over, and we promise to give you the best scoops the moment they become available._

 _Speaking of the upcoming wedding: yesterday, we had guest speaker Admiral Zaal'Koris vas Shellen speak to us about his opinion on the new development. Today, from the opposite side of the spectrum, we have Sir Ismael Bolton, the former leader of the opposition for the Remember Shanxi party, which has risen to prominence ever since the fall of its larger and more well known cousin party, Terra Firma, which was involved in a political scandal revolving around secret Cerberus funding, its involvement in what historians are calling the 'Citadel siege' and more explicit, and more embarassing, details regarding its numerous members' involvement in several slave rings involving asari, turians and batarians on Omega and Illium. Charles Saracino, the current leader of Remember Shanxi since his exonoration in_ Saracino v The Council _, declined our invitation to speak on the show tonight, explaining that he 'had other issues to attend to'. As such, the invitation was extended to his predecessor, and to our luck, Mr. Bolton accepted it. Miss Wong with all the details. Over to you, Emily."_

Nodding with a smile, she turned around to face Bolton, keeping her warm smile plastered on her face in a well disguised veneer of appeasement. Bolton was not a well liked man in the pro-alien community, mostly because of his obvious pro-human agenda. The Remember Shanxi party, unlike its larger cousin Terra Firma, was not focused on anti-alien relations in general, but focused specifically on human relations with the turians, its namesake being enough to detail its reasons. Bolton was a relatively handsome man with blonde hair and smooth complexion, despite his forty years of age, nearing fifty. However, his political opinions left much desired, and Wong wasn't looking forward to hearing his opinion on Shepard's choice of bride.

Regardless, she had to remain unbiased. Journalist code of ethics, after all. While many may not put much stock in the good will of journalists and their supposed 'ethical standards', Wong held firm to that belief, and considered herself one of the few 'pure reporters' in the industry, "Thank you for joining us, Sir Bolton. As we understand it, the Remember Shanxi party has been quite busy as of late, especially since the dissolution of Terra Firma. No doubt this has significantly poked holes in Shanxi's policies and ideals."

Bolton pursed his lips, shaking his head as he gave what looked like a pouty expression, "Hardly the case, Miss Wong. In fact, our party is stronger than its ever been. Not everybody in the Terra Firma party has been convicted or indicted, after all, and many have remained faithful to the cause. My party has gained strength since then, and as we gain more members, we're gaining more clout. I predict a return to the status quo in the next month. Without Terra Firma, it falls to us to be the voice of reason in the Systems Alliance now, especially with Commander Shepard's actions having a profound effect on our way of life."

Emily nodded, maintaining her artificial, chipper demeanour as she looked at her datapad for the first question, "Mr. Bolton, is it true that you once called Commander Shepard, and I quote, a 'paragon of humanity and a model Alliance soldier'?"

Bolton nodded eagerly, "Yes, I did. I believe I made that comment just after the Battle of Elysium, when the Skyllian Blitz began. While Mr. Saracino coined the term 'Lion of Elysium', I believe I was a bit more modest with my praise of the man. Do not get me wrong, Miss Wong, I strongly respect Shepard. He's done more for humanity than any of us in this studio can claim to have done, and his numerous accreditations, commendations and achievements are something to be lauded. The man is simply a credit to the uniform, and as someone who once served in the military myself, I can understand the pressures of command. I believe he has weathered it quite well."

"I sense a 'but' somewhere..."

"Very astute, Miss Wong. While I respect him, I've also noted quite a few flaws with him. He was in his prime when fighting the batarians on Elysium, but since then, he has become nothing but a lap dog for foreign, alien powers to use and exploit. And he freely allows it. The Saren incident, and the war that precipitated it, was nothing short of a Council problem dumped at our doorstep. It was a calamity, and if nothing else, it demonstrated a clear issue with Council policy, its Spectre initiative and the Alliance command chain. We're supposed to believe that not only was Saren Arterius' defection an isolated incident, something which reports on Illium eight months ago insinuate are false, but that somehow, after all that happened, the Council's identification of _Sovereign_ as geth technology was a mistake. Give me a break. Are we to believe its a coincidence that just after Commander Shepard's disappearance a month later, the Council did a complete 360 on its belief in the Reapers, and moved to have _Sovereign_ labelled as a geth dreadnought? Do they take us for fools? And now that the Reapers are here, they suddenly admit they made a 'mistake'? I'd say the far more likely answer is that they've been lying to us for years. And when Shepard died, they couldn't wait to sweep the threat under the rug. Underneath its squeaky clean veneer, the Council is an aging apparatus whose peacetime aspirations are quickly waring down its well built disguise to show the rotting core beneath it all. They're an ineffectual government. If you ask me, humanity's aspiration to join the Council was, and is, misguided. As traitorous as Donnel Udina's actions were during the coup, I cannot find fault in his reasoning. How can we suggest we support an establishment that is founded on satisfying a delusional ideal that the galaxy can and always will be centered around peace? Allowing Cerberus to even attack the Citadel, the place that is supposed to be the center of our government, just goes to show how weak and frail they really are. What has the Council done since then? Humanity is battered and defeated, the asari and salarians have run off back to their homeworlds in the hope the crocodile will eat them last, and the turians are left to fend for themselves, to the point where they had to run to the _krogan_ for help. This 'unity' they purport to represent is just a carefully chosen term used to describe the fragile peace they maintain. Once the right power applies enough pressure, that power being the Reapers in our case, they shatter. So much for 'unity' if the turians and humanity call for help and the asari and salarians answer by running away to hide behind their skirts. Moral cowardice."

More than a little surprised by the rant Bolton's answer had quickly turned into, Emily was preparing to bring the topic back on track, but Bolton, apparently, been working up to that the entire time, and quickly continued, speaking over Emily, "I say this because I wish to point out that Shepard's loyalty is spat upon. The man has, time and time again, put his faith in an organization that regularly chastizes him when he actually does what they employed him to do. I thought the Spectre's mandate was to preserve galactic peace, whatever the cost? Wasn't that the point of giving him translegal, extra-judicial authority to act as they saw fit? Yet, when Shepard does just that, they criticize and ridicule him for doing so. Yes, he joined Cerberus, an organization we are currently at war with, to take down the Collectors. But have we considered that he did this in the name of preserving this peace? What happened as a result of his alliance with Cerberus? Collector abductions didn't just cease, they were wiped out as a result. He achieved in less than a year what took the Alliance two years to _prepare_ to do. I find it curious the Alliance just sat back and did absolutely nothing while Commander Shepard, the apparently 'dead' terrorist, was out saving lives and getting things done. And, of course, the always useful Council let us to pick up the pieces. They chastize him for doing exactly what they employed him to do, yet needed evidence when one of their other Spectres deliberately _violated_ his oath to do just this. Shepard has constantly allied with alien races who have done nothing but spit at him in return for his loyalty. Which is why, quite frankly, it baffles me he would choose to marry one of them."

Glad they were finally back at the hurt of the issue, Emily cleared her throat and continued, "Yes, Mr. Bolton, but as you well know, the quarians are not members of the Council...they haven't been since the Morning War...well, the _first_ one. Just like humanity, they've been treated as second class citizens as well."

The man smoothed a hand over his head, and nodded, "A good point, Miss Wong. I do feel a certain level of sympathy for the quarians and their plight, but ultimately, they are a symptom of the same sickness that plagues the Council. The quarians destroyed themselves by creating the geth in the first place and trying to destroy them. In the end, they ultimately deserved what they got. To say its disappointing that Commander Shepard was wasting his time gallivanting around with the quarians in some obtuse attempt to play white knight with his lovesick, naive quarian engineer would be a significant understatement. While Beirut was nuked just two weeks ago and millions killed, Commander Shepard was on Rannoch, fighting the geth. While human colonies fell, one by one, he was wasting time trying to create peace between two races were fighting each other while, on Earth, ironclad ships were still a maritime novelty."

"I do find it noteworthy Mr. Bolton that, as a result of his actions on Rannoch, human colonies, which the Alliance had abandoned due to overstretched lines, were evacuated by Migrant Fleet vessels."

"And for that, I am thankful," Mr. Bolton replied somewhat hesitantly, "But that doesn't distract from my opinion that the Commander is wasting his time. This wedding is clearly a transparent political machination being used to enforce the false reality of stronger human-quarian ties. The quarians are helping us because it helps their image. If they can look like the galaxy's last minute saviors, then it will only help them to gain power post-war. When this war is over, who do you really think are going to be left standing? At the rate the turians are going, maintaining their military supremacy is going to be nigh impossible. The batarians are decimated, and I think we can successfully say we've seen the last of the Hegemony's slave empire. The Reapers will encroach on the asari and salarians soon, and without the turians to protect them, they'll be weakened. And the Alliance doesn't even have a homeworld at the moment: most of our core worlds have fallen! With the Terminus barely touched, the quarians and the geth enjoying a cozy new agreement, and the krogan cured of the genophage, I think its safe to say the future of the galaxy will be in their hands."

"The cure of the genophage is just speculation, there's no official-"

"Oh please, I wasn't born yesterday," he waved off, dismissing her claim, "The Council is getting worse and worse at trying to hide information from the public, especially with the deterioration of the comm buoy network. Without their STG to clamp down on unwanted information, 'secrets' are becoming harder to hold. Everybody and their mother can make a reasonable, educated guess that the genophage has been cured. Let's not insult anybody's intelligence by pretending its anything else. Back to my point: the quarians will inevitably be in a bargaining position by world's end. We will be at their mercy. They have a massive geth military-industrial base at their beck and call, and a fresh new world and economy to expand and explore. They will invariably lead the New Council when the time comes...and how better to kickstart this new galactic government then to cozy up with its neighbours in the Alliance? The batarians are history, so that just leaves us. The fact they've snagged humanity's champion under their belt just makes it another notch to their running tally."

Emily nodded, "Surely though, Mr. Bolton, there's room to consider that they may just be two people in love? Admiral Koris seems to have articulated the fact that he has observed them personally, and from what he said, it can be implied their relationship isn't one strained by political necessity, but by mutual want."

Mr. Bolton chuckled slightly, "When you grow to be my age, Miss Wong, you learn that the world isn't how you perceived it. You become jaded. Perhaps I'm just cynical. Perhaps I'm actually right. Whatever the case, I think this wedding is a mistake. If Commander Shepard wants to pass down his mantle, he needs someone who he can have children with, and a quarian is not it. He will never have a child of his own flesh and blood. And, put quite simply, I just don't think its a marriage that will last. The only way I can see this ending is with both sides seperating once they realize the only chemistry they have holding them together is fear and paranoia."

"That's assuming that's all they have holding them together."

"A career marine who doubles as a thrice time war hero, a skilled diplomat and a skilled special forces operative marrying a relatively obscure quarian admiral whose only claim to fame is that she fought in his squad? War makes strange bedfollows, Miss Wong. Theirs is a relationship of comfort and conveinence, and I'd challenge anybody to prove me wrong."

"Well, there you have it folks," Emily declared, "Straight from Sir Ismael Bolton. Thank you for accepting our invitation, Sir Bolton. It was a pleasure."

Mr. Bolton nodded, "Pleasure was mine, Miss Wong."

"Back to you, Malcolm."

* * *

July 29, 2186.

"Hey Tali, come and have a look at this shit!"

"John, the wedding is _tomorrow._ I'm supposed to talk with Kasumi about-"

"-we're on the _news_ ," he returned from his position on the couch, looking over his omni-tool, "Well, _you're_ on the news."

There was a squeak of feet slipping on slippery steel, followed by the door opening. The pitter patter of feet could be heard, along with the _drip drip drip_ of falling water. Looking up, he was amused to see a recently showered Tali, clad in nothing but a towel hastily wrapped around her waist, her long black hair tied in a ponytail (a style Ashley had shown her), rounded the corner, holding onto the edge of a support strut to steady her balance. Her... _assets_...bounced for a few seconds due to her hasty departure from the bathroom, while water continued to cascade down her grey skin.

He turned his head away, trying to afford her some privacy, "Tali, you're naked. Perhaps you should-"

"Oh, don't be such a _bosh'tet_. You've seen me naked already," she ordered, grabbing his arm, the one with the omni-tool on it, as he tried to turn around. He was subsequently pulled toward her briefly, and he simply remained still as he tried to avert his eyes from her body, her breasts a tad too close to his face. The quarian's eyes widened as she read the article in question.

"I...that asari...what? That asari _isk'len'kal_!"

"I assume that's something bad?"

She nodded with a pouting frown he found adorable, "Very. If I had said that to a quarian female, she would have challenged me to personal combat. Its considered one of the highest insults in my culture."

"Really?"

"Well...no. Not anymore, anyway. We did away with that custom before we built the first rocket. Its still considered a vulgar term, though. We only use it to express a high level of disgust."

"I guess she sorta deserves it," he admitted.

Tali just snorted, "You _think_? John, did you _read_ her article on me? Her supposed 'research' on me revolved around my activities during my pilgrimage, the battle in the alleyway where we met, and a few other instances on the Citadel during our campaign against the Collectors. If you read even further, she even tries to _claim_ that I was having an _affair!_ Can you believe that!? This asari... _whore_...had the _audacity_ to suggest that I was secretly a...a..."

"Something about Lia'Vael, correct?"

"Yes. She tried to claim I was...well..."

"Romantically involved with her?"

The quarian shuddered, "Yes."

"Anything else?"

She sighed, shaking her head as she pushed his arm away, offended by whatever the else the 'reputable' asari journalist had to say, "No, this _ulze kay misrah bosh'tet pelt'ees_ couldn't articulate a proper argument if she tried. A lot of it is conjecture and baseless insinuation. Its a witch hunt, John. She's trying to defame me, and she's got nothing relevant to do it with."

He growled, turning off his omni-tool as he grabbed one of her soaked hands, kneeding the top of it with his thumb in a way that caused Tali to hum contentedly. Glad for the reaction, he continued, "Meh, I'm just surprised Bolton managed to keep quiet about it. Hell, I found his reaction to be quite tame compared to what I was expecting. I sorta thought they'd go with the usual bullshit 'aliens suck and quarians are all suit-rats' rhetoric most of their ilk stick to like glue. Funny that the most xenophobic, hateful reaction I've heard so far was from an asari. They're supposed to be the enlightened species of the galaxy. Above petty racism."

Tali just laughed, grabbing her towel, untying it and proceeding to dry herself infront of him while she talked, "No offense to Liara and Samara, but the most racism I've ever received was from volus and asari. Perhaps they need to be brought down a notch."

He wiggled his eyebrows at her, grinning, "Marrying the most desirable man in the galaxy at the moment ought to do it."

She giggled, slapping away one of his exploring hands as she made to return to the bathroom, "Modest to the last."

"Ask the asari. I'm just stating facts."

"Yes, I'm sure Liara drools everytime you enter the mess hall."

"Like you did everytime I entered engineering?"

"Like everytime you _enter_ engineering."

"Self-admitted droolist?"

"What can I say? I liked what I saw, so I decided to marry it."

"Speaking like a true princess."

There was silence as the bathroom door closed, followed a loud yell as it dawned on her what he said.

 _"I AM NOT ROYALTY!"_

"Sure thing, Your Highness," he joked, reopening his omni-tool as he chuckled to himself. He read over the article one more time, before closing it, making sure to check his chronometer one more time before he went to see Garrus. With the turian as his best man, he needed to be as prepared as possible. The big day was tomorrow.

Despite the absolute shit storm this wedding was causing in the galactic extranet, Shepard found he didn't really care. He doubted Tali did either. All he knew was that, from the moment he made his feelings to Tali clear, all the way to the moment they enjoyed the Rannochian sunset together without her mask after defeating the Reaper Oblivion, he wanted to be with her forever. He knew how quarian bonding rituals worked, and he knew they were permanent. Quarians had no concept of divorce. And he didn't care. He loved her like he hadn't loved anyone before.

She was his soulmate. And whether the galaxy approved of it or not, he was going to marry her. And when the war was over, he was going to live with her.

Besides...the only person in the galaxy whose opinion mattered to him more than anything else was hers. And if she wanted it, he wanted it.

The rest could get stuffed.

* * *

 _ **Hope you liked what I wrote, Seahawk. I think I captured the essence of what you wanted with enough of a unique flair to pull it off. Tell me what you think. I hope you like it. And yes, the style definitely took inspiration from Media Firestorm, although without the protagonist being racist or against the relationship. It also made sense to have Emily Wong as the reporter investigating it, given she seems to be the yang to Khalisah's yin in terms of reporting.**_

 _ **Up next is Chapter 3 of Equilibrium, for those interested.**_

 _ **Keelah Se'lai, troopers!**_


	10. Snapshot 9: Quarian Dualism

_**This prompt is for killercroc. This is definitely one of the more interesting prompts I've gotten, and really not one I was expecting. Its also probably one of the more challenging prompts I've written, not counting the Purple Sparrow, which was only hard because of the OOC elements inherent in the makeup of that prompt. Highlighting the disparity between Tali and Xen is something I've wanted to explore for a while, and this prompt has provided the perfect avenue for it. I hope you enjoy.**_

* * *

Tali'Zorah was convinced she hated Daro'Xen.

As she stood beside the _Normandy_ 's war room table, three-fingered hands dancing across the interface as she pulled up engineering and tactical reports from the Battle for Rannoch, she couldn't help but ponder her thoughts on the woman. If she was being fair, she hadn't known her fellow admiral for very long: in fact, Daro'Xen's tenure as admiral wasn't that much longer than Tali's, as she had only risen to the position shortly after the failed raid on Haestrom over eight months ago, during the Collector campaign. That didn't mean Xen was a rookie by any means: she fit into the position as Admiral of Special Projects quite snugly, taking up the role almost as if it had been hand woven just for her.

That wasn't the problem. Daro'Xen had built quite the reputation on the Migrant Fleet, and for good reason. Unlike the other admirals, who had political motivations driven by emotion, Xen was driven by a cold, logical pragmatism that left little room for other, non-occupational activities. Her fascination with 'reenslaving' the geth was well known, and hardly kept a secret, and that was essentially the blueprint of Xen's endgame. She would not stop until she had exerted control over the geth. But while it had seemed like an ambitious undertaking done for the sole purpose of elevating her to the status of a prestigious champion of the people, there was the underlying feeling that Xen did this for her people. That, under her cold exterior, she truly did care about returning her species to their homeworld, and that she felt as much of a spiritual connection to the planet as the other admirals did: she just did a better job at hiding it.

That wasn't why Tali hated her. She hated her indifferent attitude towards everything. If she really did care about the quarian people, she seemed to have a funny way of showing it. For instance, she had caught Xen carelessly disregarding civilian ships under fire and requiring assistance, simply because she had an opportunity to capture geth technology. Never mind that a ship with hundreds of civilians onboard was about to be killed: Xen _must_ get her hands on geth technology. Perhaps if the decision had been more deeply thought about, then Tali wouldn't have found fault: but it was the fact that Xen had done so quickly and impassively that she had been angered by. Tali had ultimately managed to convince Xen to save the civilian ships, but Xen's reaction was most telling: she had found the venture to be annoying.

She had found saving civilian ships to be _annoying_.

Tali tensed up, finding herself gripping her console tightly as her thoughts almost completely diverted to her hatred of the woman. What didn't help was that Xen was so _indifferent_ and _smug_ about everything, all at the same time. She had a unique way of combining wisenheimer personality traits with cold logic. Xen could defeat Tali's arguments simply by playing to logic, and it was something that infuriated Tali because not only did her arguments _make sense_ , they ultimately, at least sometimes, forced her to agree to things she would have found ethically objectionable. It didn't help the sense that Tali was being pushed around: she knew she wasn't a proper admiral, and that none of the other admirals would really take her seriously, much less Xen. Her position was that of formality, not practicality. She was simply filling the spot until somebody else could. And Xen knew that, and made sure to constantly remind Tali as such as she destroyed her emotional arguments with ruthless calcalus and indifference. It was times like that where she would enjoy the few victories she got over the woman, however small they may be.

She made sure to look up ever so slightly, allowing her to see the admiral in question standing opposite her console just under the ceiling of her peripheral vision. The woman was focused solely on her work, datapad in one hand while her other one typed at the console intermittently, eyes darting from console to datapad just as sporadically as she absorbed data at a quick pace. That was another thing that irked her: Xen's intelligence. It would be so much easier to defeat Xen if she were someone with flawed reasoning. But Xen's arguments were not only compelling and backed up with evidence, but she was often right when disseminating findings. Tali was not stupid by any means, even she could admit that, but that just made Xen all the more worthy adversary. Someone just as intelligent as her, but with the experience to augment just enough to leave Tali flustered and grasping for a foothold.

It was times like that where Tali simply felt out of place. She didn't want to be an admiral: she wanted to command an engineering section, where she belonged. Her place was keeping the drive core of a starship in working condition, whilst also providing tech support in ground combat with her drone and shotgun. Making her an Admiral was like taking a pilot from the flight seat and dumping them in a sterile, stationary office on some planet.

 _I believe the human expression is...'fish out of water'._

Xen was the exact opposite. She was in her element. Being an Admiral was exactly where she should be, giving her the tools and resources needed to fund and resource her ambitious projects. She had a keen mind, a ravenous hunger for any and all information that would further her objectives, and a relentless spirit to ensure her plans succeeded. She was right where she belonged, while Tali stood in stark contrast to the other admirals. She didn't belong here.

But despite all of that, Tali still hated Daro'Xen. Her cold logic often led to the sacrifice of many good men and women simply so she could enhance her own standing position. The raid on Haestrom had been an orchestration of hers, hoping to gain information on Dholen and the dark energy consumption so she could learn whether or not it was the result of a geth superweapon. She didn't care how many marines she had to sacrifice to do it: just as long as the ends justified the means. She cared not for the life she willingly sacrificed, so long as the data gained was deemed to be 'worth it'. Her smug attitude at casually blurting out the true nature of Tali's trial all those months ago, like it didn't even matter to her, was another tick against her. Having to sit in admiralty meetings and listen to the admiral go on and on about her plans regarding the geth, postulating that they were still little more than lifeless machines, despite evidence to the contrary as a result of the data Shepard had given her during her pilgrimage. Every encounter made Tali hate the woman just that little bit more.

Xen was no fan of her either. She made sure to constantly remind Tali that her position was just a formality, and made sure to end discussions with condescending, dismissive statements that either contained hidden truths or were meant to spite her. She went out of her way to question many of Tali's opinions and decisions, to the point of actively calling her out. She had called Tali an 'idiot' on more than a few occasions, and didn't hesitate to humiliate or call her out. It was clear to anyone who paid enough attention to the two that they mutually despised each other. And yet, as admirals, they were often forced to work together.

And Tali hated it.

Luckily for them both, the escalation and simultaneous stagnation of the Second Morning War had left them too busy to bother verbally insulting or attacking each other. They had to work together, and they had accepted that, and put their differences aside (mostly) to further that goal. With the Migrant Fleet at the precipice at victory, but forced to retreat due to Reaper intervention, the price for their vigilance was to force themselves to acknowledge the other as a work colleague. As such, they were maintaining a feigned tolerance of the other. Tali mostly ignored Xen, and Xen mostly ignored her. It worked...for the most part.

"Status on the _Heflah?_ " Xen suddenly requested. She didn't even look up at Tali, staring at her console as she waited for a reply. Tali was quick to do so, scrolling through and finding the relevant information in seconds.

"Maintaining steady orbit near the _Shellen_. A geth frigate attempted to make a pass, but combined fire from the _De'flen_ and _Orimo_ forced it to retreat. Minimal damage to the _Heflah_ , although they are reporting a slight dip in engine efficiency."

"That's tolerable," Xen replied smoothly, having mentally practiced her responses measurably. She fell silent again, returning to her work. Tali waited for a few seconds, in case she had wanted to follow up on the statement, but it quickly dawned on her that the admiral had only asked the question to see if Tali was paying attention and wanted to catch her offguard. It hadn't worked of course, but it had demonstrated that Xen was aware she was being watched by Tali. She shook her head, turning back to her console.

 _Damn bosh'tet_. _Should have seen that one coming._

It was times like this though, looking through the casualty reports from their latest failed assault over Rannoch, that she was thankful Shepard was here. Not just because she had missed him all these months, cut off from the rest of the galaxy and unable to message him or see if he was okay, but because when Shepard was around...she knew everything would be okay. He had a way of conquering totally unsalvageable situations. Of taking command where others couldn't fathom continuing. The moment he arrived was the moment the tide turned. With him here, she knew they would win.

It wasn't like she was reliant on him: quite the opposite. But when it came to diplomatic and tactical predicaments like this, it required an ardent military mind to deal with it. She didn't have that. She was an engineer, first and foremost, and her expertise was in tech. Authority over a battlefield...that was Shepard's affinity. Having him present felt like a weight lifted off her shoulders. A proper tactician to offer them sound advice instead of someone pretending to be an admiral for the sake of the masses.

 _I was never cut out for this. I don't know why they even bothered. Any captain in the Fleet would have been a better choice for admiral than me. The only reason I got chosen was because of my father, and because of my history with the geth and Shepard. I've got none of the other skills required to be an Admiral. And now I'm supposed to save 17 million people...keelah, why me...?_

Still, she supposed the real reason she was happy about Shepard's arrival was that she finally had a shoulder to lean on, someone to confide in. While she loved her Aunt Shala, the fact she was also an admiral with a fleet under her command meant that venting her stress on the woman would only add to her own issues to worry about. With Shepard...she knew she could impart her stresses and pressures onto him and he would silently listen (as he always did), and then offer his own input. The fact that he was currently going through a similar situation with the UGC and the Reapers meant he not only understood, but could relate. They had spent the first night upon their reunion simply sharing their thoughts and feelings on the wars they were fighting, and by the end, she had felt much better. Tension easing away, giving way to relief. Relief that Shepard was here now, and that with him here, they could finally begin to make progress.

She must have slipped into a trance, because a moment later, she could hear Xen's voice slipping across the room to reach her auditory emulators, jolting her from the reverie. Blinking several times to rid her eyes of the myopic dissolution of her daydream, she tried to hide the fact she had flinched by slowly looking up to face the older admiral, who was staring across the table straight at her. Her focus centered, allowing her to make out the quarian far more astutely than she could before, despite the intense bluelight of the war table.

"Daydreaming, were we?" Xen quipped, managing to sound both amused and insouciant at the same time. It was a mixture Tali was accustomed to seeing in Xen, but it still irked her anyway. It was just so difficult to tell if the admiral was amused or not. Or perhaps Tali was just hearing what she wanted to hear?

She snorted, "Not at all, admiral. I was thinking." She made a show of turning back to her console screen, hoping that would be the end of the conversation, as it so often was. Xen would make an offhand comment if the mood struck her, but otherwise she too would casually forget the conversation and return to her. She was an unpredictable enigma when it came to these things.

Xen wasn't convinced by Tali's answer however, placing her datapad down on the table as she now turned her full attention to her younger compatriot, an act of which somewhat surprised Tali, as she wasn't usually quick to drop her work to focus on someone she viewed as 'inconsequential' as Tali. So surprised, she actually looked up as the admiral spoke, "There was clearly more to your thoughts than thinking, Tali. You seemed... _very_ distracted."

There it was again: another of Xen's cheap, but elusive, ploys to goad her into angrily lashing out. Xen would often, at least when they were alone, refuse to acknowledge Tali by her rank as befit her station, and would often refer to her unprofessionally as just 'Tali'. It was simply Xen's way of stating, without actually saying so, that she didn't recognize her as an admiral, nor the authority she carried with that title. However, Tali was quite used to Xen's schemes by this point, and she carefully dodged it, but gritted her teeth as she responded, "Like I said, I was _thinking_. The _Shellen_ is one of our liveships and is far too close to the front lines. I was wondering if perhaps Admiral Gerrel could be convinced to allow it to-"

Xen wasn't falling for it, "No doubt your thoughts lingered on your commander."

Tali stopped dead in her tracks, completely bewildered by Xen's sudden declaration. She blinked once, trying to regain her mental bearings, but found herself for at least a couple seconds without anything to say, which proved to be a mistake: hesitation and/or silence is often a confirmation in and of itself. _How does she...? No, I was very careful to keep my relationship with Shepard a secret from the admirals. No, there must be another explanation. Perhaps she means...something else?_

Trying to gauge exactly what Xen knew, Tali decided to use the admiral's own tactics against her: she probed for information, "Yes, they have been. Shepard has been very helpful in helping us beat back the geth. The operation to cripple the geth super-dreadnought was only successful because of his timely intervention. And as I understand it, he'll seen be returning from rescuing Admiral Koris. None of these strikes would be possible without him. I was just thinking how lucky our people are to have an ally such as him." She had been careful not to drop Shepard's first name as she often did with him, as it denoted familiarity that she knew Xen's intellect would pick apart in seconds.

The admiral's eyes narrowed, and she braced her arms against the table. Tali stiffened slightly at the sight, arms crossing, "Yes...and I'm sure you've been having him in many different ways yourself, Tali."

 _She really does know. Keelah, does the rest of the admiralty know? Or is this just Xen's powers of deduction at work? No, that must be it. Shepard and I have been careful not to show our feelings infront of them. We were absolutely thorough. Xen must have figured it out on her own. Not too far fetched._ Regardless of being found out, Tali couldn't help but keep up the facade anyway. Her eyes narrowed into slits as she too braced against the table, glaring at Xen, "I believe you're trying to tell me something, Daro. Out with it." _Used her first name too. Take that, you bitch._

Xen seemed somewhat perturbed at that, but managed to recompose herself quickly. Still, Tali could smile a tiny bit at her miniscule victory, "Oh, come now, Tali. Do not insult my intelligence...your relationship with the commander is quite obvious. You have not been doing a good job at hiding it."

 _Well, no point in denying it any further. She's got me._ Licking her lips, she simply quirked an eyebrow up at the more mature admiral, "I don't see that its any of your business who I have a relationship with, Daro. Perhaps you pay too much attention to things that are outside of your scope of influence."

Her laugh was a light, but a sweet parody of mirth, causing Tali to tense up like a viper in anger as Xen was left totally unaffected by her assertion, "I didn't make it my business, Tali. I simply find it amusing the lengths you will go to keep it secret. If I was in a relationship with such a prime example of the male gender...I do not believe I would be able to keep it undisclosed."

Now _that_ was _not_ the answer Tali had expected...at all. So much so she had to cock her head at the admiral, letting her smokescreen of defiance slip and give way to confusion. Of all the things she had expected Xen to say about Shepard, and her relationship with him...she hadn't expected something reminiscent of _envy_. And make no mistake, she had definitely heard that in Xen's tone. Jealously didn't befit the admiral, but there was no doubt she was envious. Despite this, however, in a deliberate measure of spite, she leaned forward slightly, her voice low and wispy as she drew the conversation in, trying to keep it contained between them and not open to the officers on the surrounding level to observe, "Xen...do I detect _jealously_ in your voice?"

For a split second, a minute fracture in time, Tali saw what amounted to a flash of frustration in Xen's form. She had tensed up, her fingers gripping the console more tightly, Xen's eyes narrowing into the distinct slits of vehemence. But then it disappeared, evaporating into the aether, replaced by the calm and confident form of the admiral she knew, "Of course not, child. I simply...congratulate you. While I find it surprising such a man as Shepard would waste his time with a puerile, naive adolescent masquerading as an admiral, I do not begrieve him the ability to choose whatever mate he chooses. A man of his reputation has earned that right."

 _Wow...she really is envious. I could almost detect a sort of...anger in her voice. I never knew she felt this way about Shepard. Keelah._ However, Tali hadn't taken kindly to being insulted in such a manner, and hissed at her through clenched teeth, her voice beginning to raise as she finally allowed the admiral to get to her, "Daro, I'll have you know that Shepard chose me because-"

"You mentioned me?"

The two quarian women turned to address the newcomer in the room, and found none other than the topic of discussion standing at the top of the stairs, looking down on them. He had likely just finished getting undressed in his cabin ( _their_ cabin) as he was wearing a basic blue and black shirt, cargo pants and a cap. His hands were clasped behind his back, having just walked through the door and having heard his name mentioned, staring down at them as he awaited an answer. After a moment however, she realized his look was centered on her, not Xen, awaiting an answer. She smiled, leaning back and crossing her arms.

"We were just discussing-"

"-your relationship," Xen course corrected, totally overriding Tali's attempt to redirect the conversation away from what they were previously discussing. Eyes widening in surprise, she whirled to face the quarian admiral, wondering what she was up to. It was clear Xen was dedicated to forcing this discussion now, as she turned to face Shepard fully, her own arms crossed.

Descending the steps and frowning, Shepard gazed between the two of them with a measure of confusion. His gaze lingered on Tali, eyes probing for an explanation to this, but she simply shook her head, willing him not to continue, but knowing that the floodgates had been opened. And once they were opened...

He turned to Xen, nodding with a slight hint of a smile, " _Our_ relationship? You mean Tali and I? And why exactly would _that_ be a topic of discussion?" That last part was clearly meant for Tali, an expression of confusion as to why somebody who had been adamant about keeping their relationship a secret to the admirals was now openly discussing it with the admiral she hated the most. He could be forgiven for that.

Xen just nodded, "Yes, I was just telling Tali here how poorly hidden your relationship was. And that I don't quite understand why it was kept secret in the first place."

"For the Fleet," both Shepard and Tali answered simultaneously. They shot to look at each other instantly, before both turning back to Xen, the quarian engineer blushing intensely. Finishing each other's sentences right infront of another admiral was not exactly the best way to defuse this situation.

"Ah," the admiral replied wearily, as if bored by the answer and finding it dull and uninteresting, "The age old excuse that every quarian in the Fleet uses to justify themselves. Still, I don't think I could keep a relationship with a man like you secret for very long. Quite the opposite, in fact."

"Oh?" Shepard asked, having no idea what he was getting into as he asked that question, failing to notice Tali's signal for him to abort, "You sound like you're trying to say something about me, Admiral Xen."

There was a low sigh of exasperation, "Don't be so obtuse, commander. You are one of the most desirable men in the galaxy, trascending species, in fact. But everybody has different reasons for wanting you, as well. I would be...lying, if I didn't find a certain alluring quality in you as well, Commander Shepard."

Shepard seemed speechless, and simply stood there as Xen's rhetoric continued, Tali watching the admiral with a sense of growing disbelief. The Xen she was looking at now was unlike any other time she had seen the woman. Gone was the indifferent and cold exterior she held up so fervently, replaced by the admiral's version of 'pouring her heart' out. It was both nauseating and interesting to watch, "I will be the first to admit it, I did not like you the first time we met. I thought you were just like Tali: naive, incongruent and a white knight. The wave she had described you in the past had left me no room to see anything else. But then of course I listened to you perform during the trial: you crafted a speech that I found both compelling and powerful. Your ability to play to a crowd and utilize their emotions as a weapon for your arguments was intriguing. And then after I inspected the damage on the _Alarei_ personally...and saw all the geth you killed...I'll admit, I was very impressed."

"Where are you going with this, Xen-" Tali tried to interrupt, only for Xen to ignore her and go right over the top of her, cutting her off near totally.

"I've done my research on you, commander," Xen admitted, beginning to circle around Shepard like someone who was examining a prized specimen in an observation chamber. Considering Xen's demeanour and personality, this seemed totally in line with who she was, "The Lion of Elysium, they call you. Hero of the Citadel. Your actions against the geth...very impressive. Getting Saren Arterius, the Council's best Spectre to kill himself... _fascinating_. And I heard you died...and came back to life. Only to wipe out the Collectors. And then the Shadow Broker. There is something to be said about your efficiency, Shepard. In fact, I find you and I are quite alike."

Shepard was intrigued by that, "Really? How so?"

"Simple," she pursued, "You and I both see the real picture. You see a goal, and you reach out and achieve it. You don't allow others to dictate what you do: you reach out and seize the day. When your enemies get in your way, you destroy them. If an objective is blocked by an obstacle, you remove the obstacle and continue, unrelenting. In this, you and I are the same. I will stop at nothing to put my people back on the homeworld, and to returning the geth to their rightful masters. And you will stop at nothing to secure your alliance to retake Earth. We are not different at all. We have different methods, oh yes, but in our motives and behaviour...you will find us very similar."

Tali couldn't _believe_ what she was hearing. This... _bitch_...this _hagar'ritz_...was not only trying to compare the two, but she was, simultaneously, trying to _seduce_ him! Tali, being a quarian, could easily notice the warning signs that Shepard couldn't: movement of the hands, how she eyed his body, how she circled him like a predator stalking its prey...the warning signs were all there. She didn't know what game Xen was playing, but she was putting a stop to it... _right now_. She was not going to stand by while Xen had her way with Shepard! She knew he could handle himself, but this act was meant as a direct insult to her. She would not stand for it.

She stepped around the table, waving an accusing finger at the admiral, "You and John are _nothing alike_!" she spat, causing Xen's full attention to focus on her, "You experimented on your _childhood toys!_ You are a complete psycho! You care nothing for sacrificing the lives of countless men and women to get what you want! You would do whatever it takes to obtain your goal! John would never do that! He goes out of his way to save people. On Feros, he went in _alone_ to minimize friendly fire, and then didn't even fire a single shot! He refused to use his weapons because he was afraid one wrong move would end with a civilian dead...he goes out of his _way_ to save lives! You don't give a second thought to wasting them!"

Shepard, seeing where this was going, tried to diffuse the situation, "Admirals, can we keep this ci-"

Xen wasn't having any of it, "All you've done is affirmed my belief that we're alike, Tali. Shepard is a man of principle. His actions on Feros show he has an indomitable spirit. He will do whatever it takes to accomplish his mission. Its something many of my would-be suitors have lacked. A lack of it bores me, but with Shepard...it has been a while since a man of this calibre has interested me. Taking a detour to save civilians is not something I would have done, but the fact that Shepard did so only demonstrates to me how much conviction he has. Have I shown any less conviction in our war with the geth? Have my countermeasures not significantly lessened casualties within our Civilian Fleet?"

"Ladies, we really should-"

"That's not even _comparable!_ " Tali shouted, "John has _morals._ Its something _you_ do not have! He is a _good_ man, where as _you_ are cold, heartless and unscrupulous!"

Xen laughed slightly, finally moving away from Shepard to stand infront of him, arms crossed and looking at Tali, "Please child, you do yourself no favours. The fact that Shepard sees anything in you at all is something that puzzles me. You are weak, lacking conviction and _frail_."

"Now wait just a min-" Shepard tried to object, but Tali had already beaten him to it.

"Listen, you _bosh'tet hagar'ritz be'ly_ , you don't know a _damn thing_ about John. I love him because of what he really is: a man capable of excessive amounts of kindness. He is a warrior, a diplomat and a good man, all in one. He could have taken the data I had on Saren all those years ago, paid me for it and left: instead, he invited me to join his crew, despite having no proof I'd be helpful on the mission. He made a concerted effort to talk to the entire crew, regardless of their opinions or beliefs: even if he disagreed with them. He has had a marked effect on everyone he meets: I became a better soldier because of him. He turned a grizzled krogan mercenary in the leader of a people and someone I consider family. He turned a naive C-Sec officer looking for revenge in a skilled commander. That's why _I_ love him. You want to know why he loves _me_? If I'm honest, _I don't know._ But I do know is that out of his entire crew, and all the women in the galaxy, he chose _me_. I've long since stopped questioning it, and if you want to, _you can go right ahead_. I don't _care._ I know John would never leave me, _especially_ not for someone like you, so you might as well give up."

"Thank you, Tali. Now can we please end-"

Xen wasn't finished apparently, "Your infatuation with him is what probably pressured him into being with you. He requires a woman of conviction and strength, to compliment his own. A woman of efficiency and decisiveness. He deserves only the best, and I do not believe you fit that description. Perhaps you should consider stepping away and-"

"Okay, seriously, I've had enough of this ridiculous posturing from both of you," Shepard finally snapped, loudly enough that both women finally turned away from each other to face him. Arms crossed, they watched as Shepard came to stand between them, hands clasped behind his back and lips steeled in an expression of the seriousness that befit him. Confident they would both remain quiet and not start up the argument again, he cleared his throat, "Now look, I appreciate...the things...you have said about me."

He turned to Tali, eying her lovingly, "I love you, Tali, and that's not going to change. You may not always understand my reasons, but from the moment we started this relationship, I knew I was where I wanted to be. One day, you'll understand why. Xen believes you are frail and lacking conviction...I couldn't disagree more. Your selflessness and courageous actions on the old _Normandy_ and the new...its part of what I found attractive in you. You were always willing to set aside your own feelings for the betterment of the mission. You're the best damn engineer I know. Everything about you, right down to your personal creed, is something I find inspiring. Xen couldn't be more wrong about you. I love you, and that's never going to change."

Tali felt immense warmth and happiness at hearing his words: a confirmation of how she felt about him, and her stern belief he would not leave her. She hadn't been worried that Xen would be successful in seducing him, more that she had even attempted it. It had seemed like a personal attack: an insult to her clan, first and foremost, and in ancient quarian history, she might have answered the challenge with personal combat. Luckily Shepard, as always, had deescalated the situation before it got that far.

However, she could see Shepard was still thinking about what to say next. Before she could ask what was on his mind, he suddenly turned towards Xen, acknowledging her next. However, what she heard next wasn't anger, but was in fact the same tone she had heard being used to address her, "Admiral, do not think what you said about me was taken lightly. I...appreciate that you feel that way, even if I don't reciprocate. I don't agree with what you said about Tali, and I'm certainly not about to say that you two should keep this professional. That's not up for me to decide. You're both admirals, and what you choose to discuss is your business. However, I will say this: I respect you as well, admiral. I don't always agree with your views, especially regarding the geth, but I can respect your drive and determination. You're a pragmatist at heart, and I'd be lying if I haven't had to adopt a similar line of thinking in the past. You're convinced of your purpose, and its hard not to respect that. I don't hate you, admiral, and I don't view you as a friend, but I can say that I approbate you. You're strong-willed and dogmatic, and I think anyone with any reasonable semblance of intelligence would be unable to resist being impressed."

Finally, for the first time since Tali had met and talked with Xen, the admiral was left speechless. She simply nodded to the commander's statement, demonstrating her approval with what he said, before falling silent. He looked between the two of them for a moment, and once he saw that their argument had been resolved, he spoke again, exhaling deeply, "Well, if that's that argument resolved, I've got some reports to read over in my cabin. I'm sure you two will not start arguing again the moment I leave the room?"

Tali shook her head, while Xen spoke up, "No commander, you've made your feelings quite apparent. Tali and I will remain...cordial, towards one another."

 _If she had said that any more stressfully, she might have shattered her teeth from gritting them so hard._ It was clear Xen's opinion of Tali hadn't changed at all, simply that her advances on Shepard had been stalled completely and she was accepting this. To her credit, she was quick to adapt, and within moments she had returned to her console, picking up her datapad and wordlessly returning to work, no sign of reproachment in her posture. She looked totally unaffected.

Eying Xen for a minute longer than needed, Shepard finally turned to Tali and smiled, reaching up and kissing her on the hood, before pulling back, "What about you?"

She sighed, smiling, "I've worked with her this long, John. I think I can handle her, especially now that you've pulled her down a few rungs."

"You mean 'take down a peg.'"

"Whatever. You know what I mean."

He smiled warmly, before hugging her gently, "I know. I'll be up in my... _our_ cabin, if you need me. Stop by later if you can."

"Sure. I'll do that."

After a brief embrace, he turned and left the room, doors closing behind him before Tali had even returned back to her console. She didn't let her own smugness radiate enough for Xen to pick up on it, because she knew ultimately the admiral would ignore it. Still, she felt a certain sense of victory rising in her, knowing Shepard had, right infront of Xen, reaffirmed his love for her and basically shot down Xen's advances.

Still, looking at Xen from where she was now, you wouldn't be able to tell. She simply returned to her work, looking totally unaffected. Almost as if the outcome hadn't actually bothered her at all. That she hadn't actually been trying to begin with.

 _Maybe it was just a social experiment to get me to spill my feelings for Shepard out in the open. Or maybe she was serious. Guess I'll never know._

Nor did she really care. All she knew was that she was happy Xen had been put in her place, and with that, she could continue her work in peace. Not only that, but now Xen's presence didn't bother her so much anymore.

She smiled, returning to work. _We've got a war to win. Tonight...well, let's just say I'm definitely paying John a visit._

She was looking forward to it.

* * *

 _ **I hope this is what you wanted, killercroc. A prompt hasn't challenged me this hard mentally since the 'Purple Sparrow' prompt in terms of execution. Trying to articulate Xen and Tali's feelings for Shepard in a way that was characteristically adherent to their characters was difficult, and I felt I was really reaching towards the end. I've done multiple drafts of this, and while I'm still not entirely satisfied with it, I am convinced you will at least enjoy the final product anyway. Let me know what you think, especially you killercroc.**_

 _ **Up next is Chapter 4 of Equilibrium.**_

 _ **Keelah Se'lai, troopers!**_


	11. Snapshot 10: They Always Grow Up

_**This prompt is for PATR1OTJD. This prompt is actually a direct sequel to another prompt written by Synweaver in Snippets, the fanfic this is an unofficial sequel to. The prompt, 'Surprise!', detailed Rael'Zorah having survived the events of ME2, and learning of Shepard and Tali's relationship during that scene on the geth dreadnought (the one where they flirt). Now, the scene itself at the end seemed to suggest the two had sex right there on the spot (which, even for comedic purposes, was a bit too much in my opinion), so while this is a sequel to that prompt, I will be carrying on based on the assumption that part never happened, but that everything before it did.**_

 _ **Hope you enjoy this chapter, PATR1OTJD. This one was definitely...interesting to write. XD. But interesting in a good way. It was quite fun.**_

* * *

The Battle for Rannoch had turned from what had supposed to have been a total victory to a near total defeat. The quarian's lightning attacks, strikes and assaults had cut through the fortified geth border with ease utilizing Xen's new countermeasures, and the Migrant Fleet had swept through their former systems, retaking world after world. Operation Perseus Strike had been turning into a brilliant boon, despite the murmurs of concern and skepticism ringing through the Conclave in the lead up to the war.

Just yesterday, the last geth controlled system outside of Tikkun, Dholen, had fallen to a task force of 80 quarian ships, who swiftly defeated what should have been a numerically superior force.

Led by none other than Admiral Rael'Zorah himself.

The past year had been an odd one for Rael'Zorah. Just over seven months ago, he had been on his personal lab ship, the QMFV _Alarei_ , running experiments for a secret experiment known as Project K: the Special Projects program to develop anti-geth weapon systems in preparation for Perseus Strike. Admiral Xen had given her full approval: after all, she had provided the _Alarei_ to him in the first place. All she had asked for was to be kept constantly updated, as she had a vested interest in developing weapons capable of countering the geth. While he had never liked her more ambitious plans involving reenslaving the geth, their fixation on retaking Rannoch had made them reluctant allies, and thus, Project K had Xen's full sanction.

Only problem was...Project K was a classified project. So top secret that the rest of the Admiralty Board, and the Conclave, were kept in the dark about it. Raan, Gerrel and Koris were completely unaware of what occurred on the _Alarei_. Xen had been meticulous in making sure the _Alarei_ 's registry had it pegged as belonging to the Civilian Fleet, even creating the necessary paperwork to make it believable. Only Xen, Rael, the ship's captain and the Project K science team knew anything about it, and they were sworn to secrecy. After all, what Project K was doing was tantamount to treason.

So when Xen got annoyed at Rael's lack of progress, forcing him to switch to live geth testing, and said geth subsequently actualized and slaughtered the ship's crew, Xen cut all ties and wiped her hands clean of it all. With no ship tied to her authority, and no evidence of her ties to the project, she could 'pretend' to have no knowledge of it, using Rael as a scapegoat if he survived. Which he did.

He was lucky. Just as the geth breached the corridor he was in, he had managed to access a nearby storage room and lock it behind him: the geth had no knowledge of where he was, and thus he went undetected until finally saved by Commander Shepard, his daughter and their team. He was horrified that his actions had ended with his daughter put on trial, but just as he had been ready to sacrifice himself to save her future, the Commander had successfully redirected the blame to political manipulation on behalf of the admirals, resulting in the trial being declared null and void, and both Rael and Tali exonerated.

And now here he was, leading an attack into the heart of the geth's territory, bringing his people within striking distance of their ancestral homeworld. He was convinced Xen's countermeasures, part of her own Project Z, were based off the work he had done on the _Alarei_ , and that she had somehow covertly saved the data and used it to complete her own work, this one sanctioned through official channels. Xen would take the credit for his work, but he would never be able to tell anyone about it: less he admit to the lie he told all those months ago.

What was odd was that he somehow felt as if he had gotten a second chance. His brush with death on the _Alarei_ had been illuminating, demonstrating to him just how far he had fallen in the period following his wife's death, and the folly of his logic. And all he needed to look to as proof of this was his own daughter: Tali'Zorah.

He had never told her this...but he was proud of her. The things she had achieved were nothing short of awe-inspiring. She had been a prodigy of engineering in her youth, out performing everybody else in her tech and mathematics classes. She had taken up dancing as a hobby when she was a teacher, which he suspected was the influence of her mother, who had regularly taken to dance clubs during her pilgrimage, and thus had a natural affinity for it. When he learned she was fighting alongside a human captain on a state-of-the-art warship to wage war on the geth and take down a rogue Spectre, he had been skeptical, but the more he heard of her exploits, especially following the Battle of the Citadel, the more pride he had felt. When she had elected to stay on the ship instead of completing her pilgrimage, he had been both angry and totally unsurprised.

Seeing her now...she had grown up to be a remarkable young woman. Dedicated, open-minded, a quick study, an engineering genius and a talented combatant and marine. She was everything a father could want in a daughter.

But up until the _Alarei_ incident, he had done nothing to acknowledge those achievements. He had been cold, uncaring and indifferent. He had treated her accomplishments with nothing but disappointment, constantly pestering her to do better. 'Excellent' was never good enough. He had heckled her excitement over joining the _Normandy_ 's crew and treated her like a child. During her adolesence, any attempts to draw emotion or love from her father hit a unresponsive wall. By the time of her pilgrimage, she had given up, and a noticeable rift formed between them: their relationship had gone from familial to professional.

And he was ashamed. Not of her, but of himself.

When her mother died, Tali was devastated. She would cry for hours at a time, and when her mother was sick, she would refuse to even leave the room, despite being directed. Tali had even said that her 'mummy wasn't allowed to get sick'. Back then, she understood the concept of death, but hadn't readily accepted it as a part of life. So when her mother finally passed, and it finally sunk in, Tali's only recourse was to turn to her father for comfort. And she was met with nothing but indifference. The poor girl needed her father then more than ever, and he had rebuffed her. It was no wonder she had grown so bitter about him. He hadn't been there for her.

Its not like he _didn't_ love her. He did. He just had a different way of showing it: evidently, the wrong way. He thought that if he retreated into his work, did everything he could to return his people to the homeworld, that he could build them a home. And once he had, he would finally show her the affection and love she craved, and he would be the father she wanted.

Except it took too long, and by the time they were finally ready to take the fight to the enemy, Tali had grown up, and all but given up on dreams of returning home. The distance between them grew larger, and every opportunity he had to come clean and tell her how much he loved his daughter came and went. Until the _Alarei_ , at least.

Like he said, the incident on that ship, and his brush with death, was an educational experience, and an eye-opener. For the first time in his life, he was very close to dying. He had always thought that the Migrant Fleet was the safest place to be: sure, quarians died, but only when they neglected their suit repairs or elected to remove their suit, like his wife had, leading to her death. Their defenses protected the Fleet from pirates, and they were at no risk of geth attack because they never left the Veil. It was the safest place to be...or so he thought. He imagined he'd have all the time in the world to keep his promise to Tali, and survive to the day he could enjoy it.

So when the geth broke loose, and he had almost died...he'd realized the irrationality of his actions. His sheer arrogance. In the time he spent focused on his work, even risking treason to make it happen, he had forgotten that he was not immortal, and that he was not untouchable. After the _Alarei_ , he had made sure to rectify that. But with Tali out fighting the Collectors with Shepard, he had not been afforded the opportunity. The day she returned, a few days after Shepard had apparently turned himself in after the Bahak incident, was the day he leaped on the chance to make amends.

In a moment of unprofessional behaviour, he had welcomed his daughter with a hug. And from that point forward, he made sure to treat her with the love she desired to be reciprocated. And to his everlasting gratitude, she accepted it with open arms, despite her initial surprise at it all.

And, funnily enough, six months after that, the invasion of the Perseus Veil went ahead as planned. So in reality, dropping his cold demeanour hadn't diminished his chances of getting his dream to come true after all: in the end, it was going to occur anyway, and he only needed to wait. In a way, it was thanks to Xen that this was even happening, even if it was because she based her research off of his own work.

In six months, he had achieved many things with his daughter. He understood she wasn't ready to show her face to him yet (which had actually struck him deeper than she knew, given the level of trust needed for one quarian to show another their face, meaning she didn't trust him that much), and they had been able to perform other activities together. Sharing rations together after work. Discussing fleet tactics and strategy for the upcoming invasion. Talking about her recent adventures. He had noticed she placed a lot of emphasis on her time with Commander Shepard, but at the time, he had thought nothing of it. Harmless admiration for one's captain was not uncommon in quarian society: in fact, it was the norm. The fact she was considered one of his best friends surprised him, but after meeting the man in person for the first time just seven months ago, he had quickly become impressed with the man. Tali's lavish praise suddenly didn't seem so lavish.

However, what _did_ shock him was her attitude towards geth. All her life, she, like all other quarians, hated the geth with a passion for what they did during the First Morning War. Kicking them out of their home, slaughtering their people, exiling them to live in aging ships and enviro suits for the rest of their lives. The geth were a nightmare story told to children, and by the time they grew up, that fear turned into dispassionate hatred for their people's enemy, leading to generations of quarians who despised their creations. The only quarians who didn't hate geth were those who identified with the _Pe'geth_ political movement in the Conclave, but they were a large minority, even if Zaal'Koris was a member of their group.

So, suffice to say, one would expect Tali to support a large-scale invasion plan by the Migrant Fleet to attack and reclaim the Perseus Veil, finally enacting revenge on their people's arch enemy.

Instead...she joined the _pe'geth_ movement. Not only that, but she openly campaigned against going to war with the geth, and even suggested _peace_ with them.

All the admirals had been shocked by this. Koris, because he had convinced himself anyone who hated the geth was his political enemy and threat, and thus had not expected to find the person who he had tried to exile only months before become his ally. Gerrel, because he was disappointment that his adopted niece had chosen to oppose his policy. Xen, but only because she could no longer manipulate Tali for her own purposes. Shala, mostly because she wasn't sure what had triggered this change. And Rael, because the daughter he thought he'd finally come to understand had hit him with a bombshell that shattered all his previous preconceptions.

What had happened to his Tali? Before she even left the Fleet after her trial, she still hated the geth with a passion, despite showing contempt for what he had done. There was no trace of the woman she had become. In the span of just over two months, she had changed into a geth apologist _and_ peace supporter. What happened? What caused this change in behaviour?

Sure, Tali had explained that there was a schism in the geth consensus, and that the geth they had been fighting in the Eden Prime War and in subsequent raids were a faction known as the heretics, and that the majority of the geth wanted an end to hostilities, but that hadn't explained how she had come by this information and exactly why this changed her stance. These heretic geth didn't exist during the Morning War, and they certainly weren't responsible for their exile...so why was she defending them? On that, Tali wouldn't tell him. And it only annoyed him even more.

Still, he hadn't let that come between them. Even when Tali and Koris' votes were overruled and the Fleet mobilized for war, Tali had silently gone along with it and assisted. Due to her combat experience in the Eden Prime War, her part in numerous marine raids following that war, and her part in wiping out the heretics at Haratar Station, Tali was taken onboard by the Admiralty Board as their foremost advisor in geth weapons and tactics. She had expressed regret that the peace option had been dismissed, but had nonetheless committed herself to helping them prepare for war regardless.

He had misjudged her clearly.

Everything between them had gone fine from that point forward...until now.

As the quarians pushed onto Rannoch, they ran into a problem: the geth were no longer vulnerable to Xen's upgrades. Initially baffled by this development, they quickly learned that it was because a geth super-dreadnought, a warship unlike anything they had ever seen, was transmitting Reaper code to all geth ships and troops within the Perseus Veil, allowing them to overcome Xen's countermeasures and fight back with increased effectiveness. With the quarians trapped, Tali was sent with the rest of the admirals to get help from Commander Shepard, who Tali was confident would help them. Rael had stayed back to hold the line and, true to her word, Commander Shepard had arrived, on the _Normandy_ , to help them. So much so that he had actually kept the admirals onboard and headed straight for their position, leaving the envoy ship way behind and forced to catch up.

Rael'Zorah had been shocked, once again, at how much Commander Shepard had gone out of his way to help them. He had expected the man to care more about his own people, and scoff at the notion of helping suit-rats out of a situation they created. But not only had he rushed to help them, but he had even gone as far as to suggest leading a team onto the super-dread, led by himself, to take down the signal.

Rael had to ask himself: why was the man doing this? What was his motivation?

He was beginning to wish he had never found out the answer.

He had been so dense. Raan had subtlely suggested it without him ever knowing it: the odd side look at Tali, the brief attempts at telling him that Tali wanted to tell him something. At one point, she even outright told him that Tali was seeing somebody. His first impulse was to assume she had a boyfriend on the Fleet, and assumed it was Kal'Reegar, given how much they often talked. And the more and more obtuse he got. What a fool he had been.

Finally, after seven months, he learnt the truth: through mission comms. Shepard had agreed to set up a QEC comm link with the _Normandy_ during the mission to allow them to relay constant mission updates to the Admiralty Board without risk of the geth detecting, monitoring or jamming their transmission. Shepard had taken a small team consisting of himself, a human marine named James Vega, and Tali, who had insisted on going with Shepard. It had all seemed harmless of course: the two had served together, and were friends. Right?

Wrong. Before he knew it, the two of them were shamelessly flirting on the comms, seemingly forgetting that Rael, and the other admirals in the room, could hear them. And within moments, the confirmation of what he was slowly beginning to realize: Shepard wasn't just Tali's friend...he was her _lover_.

To say he was furious would be an understatement. He had restrained his anger enough not to verbally assault Shepard on the comms, but the man could surely _feel_ the fury directed at him.

 _Damn that man. How dare he use my little girl like that. How long has this been going for? Is this why Tali was so infatuated with him? What's his end goal here? What does he intend to do with her? Is this a fling, or a serious relationship? I don't care what his intentions are...I'm going to kill that man. The moment he gets onboard this ship, I'll...I'll..._

In truth, he really didn't know what he'd do. The man was a special forces operative with untold experience fighting geth, mercenaries and other enemy combatants in hand-to-hand: he seriously doubted he would simply stand there and take it. But what else was he to do? Tali was his daughter, and Shepard had been secretly consorting her behind his back and without his blessing. What was he to make of this? And to think that this man may have seen his daughter's face before her own father got to...

 _No. Tali wouldn't be so irresponsible as to...give herself to him. Surely not. She understands the dangers of copulation between quarians, let alone with an alien. I mean, humans certainly look close enough to us, but...that's besides the point! I cannot believe she would hide this from me!_

But then he realized another, darker reason for why she might have done so.

 _What reason does she have to tell me? I've never shown her any love in the past. She probably doesn't care what I think. She might have done this just to spite me, in fact. And I thought I was making progress towards being a good father..._

Whatever the case, Rael was not happy about this. As Tali's father, he deserved to know about this. And, as he turned to Shala and gave her a stern look, he realized that perhaps Raan had known about this all along. The fact that one of his fellow admirals, let alone a dear friend to his family and clan, would hide this from him as well, seemed almost like a stab of betrayal. Had Tali put Shala up to this? Sworn her to secrecy? Or does Tali not know of Raan's knowledge of her relationship, and Shala is simply operating off of a woman's intuition? She always knew Tali better than I did. Shala was the only motherly figure she had after Meru died...perhaps that's how Shala knows.

 _She feels closer to Clan Raan than she does her own father...I've failed as a parent far worse than I predicted._

But soon...that would be rectified.

He had not cut the communications, and simply kept listening. A few minutes more into the mission, and the squad was ambushed by geth troops whilst on an elevator, and Shepard had been caught in the middle. Tali had pulled him up when the elevator collapsed. She expressed concern and worry, while Shepard brushed it off with what seemed like a blase attitude (Ancestors help him, he was going to punch Shepard). Tali, puzzingly, tried to make it seem as if she was more worried for her reputation, to which Shepard responded with yet another jestful quip. Their repertoire of behaviour seemed to center around a weird combination of jokes and flirting that confused him, making it seem as if their relationship was one that was casual, and lacking any real seriousness...which was tantamount to taboo in quarian society.

Quarian relationships were serious affairs. Casual flings and flirting were all but unheard of. So to have this man and his daughter being so blatantly remissive on comms where he can hear every single word they're saying filled him with unbridled rage. He gripped the table tightly, red clouding his vision as he thought of all the things he was going to do to Shepard when he got back on this ship.

 _I will kill him. Ancestors help me, I'm going to kill this bosh'tet._

The rest of the mission had continued normally, with very little _intimate_ interaction between Tali and Shepard. There had been a brief period of confusion when the team's comms went silent, EDI reporting that Shepard cut communications on his end, only to reestablish them exactly eleven minutes later, with no explanation offered as to why they were cut in the first place.

Not that it mattered. Because within another few minutes, after the super-dread's barriers and defensive systems were confirmed to be offline, Admiral Gerrel through another wrench into the works when he ordered his Heavy Fleet to attack and destroy the geth flagship while they were crippled. Horrified that Gerrel would give such an order, Rael had protested, with Shala quickly joining him. Xen didn't care though, and Gerrel wasn't listening, actually muting Shepard and Tali's own protests on their end as he gave orders to his fleet to hit the super-dread with everything they had. Rael was furious, shouting at Gerrel to stand down, only for the admiral to reaffirm that the Heavy Fleet was his to command, not Rael's. Shala later capitulated and helped when Gerrel pressured her to do so, warning that their Heavy Fleet would be destroyed if her Patrol Fleet didn't help. Shala really had no choice in the matter.

Rael was left to fume in agonizing silence as Gerrel passed on his orders, watching from the _Normandy_ 's screens as the Heavy Fleet opened fire on the super-dreadnought, with Shepard's team still onboard. With _Tali_ still onboard.

 _I'm going to kill Gerrel when this is over. He better hope my daughter gets out of there alive._

It was impossible for him to tell how much time had passed: he had long since stopped paying attention. With the comms muted and Gerrel unwilling to unmute them, he had no way of knowing whether or not Tali had gotten out of there alive. All he could do was wait for news, and hope that it was good. He silently prayed she was alright.

He would get his wish. Less than six minutes later, EDI, the ship's VI (although he strongly suspected she was actually an AI, given how she talked and acted) announced Shepard's team had gotten out alive, and were on a commandeered geth fighter heading for the _Normandy_. He blew out a collective sigh of relief, feeling his shoulders slump and grip unconsciously loosen and relax, the tension easing out of his posture as it drained from him. Everything was going to be okay. His daughter was safe.

Gerrel looked far too satisfied with himself, "See? The Commander and Tali got out of there in one piece, and my ships destroyed the geth flagship. Without that signal, the geth will be vulnerable to our countermeasures again. Thanks to me, victory is back in our reach."

Rael's head snapped up, turning to face Gerrel. The nerve of the man. There he was, arms crossed and head held high in pride, as he gloated over his victory. A victory he had almost paid for in his daughter's blood. A victory he had risked quarian ships for, and deviated from the evacuation plan for. Instead of retreat, Gerrel had pushed forward. If the signal hadn't been disabled when it was...Gerrel may have just put victory in the _geth_ 's reach.

Fists tightening and rage returning, this time directed solely at Gerrel, he rounded the table, coming to stand where Gerrel was situated, facing the side where the war room entrance was. His mask came inches from Gerrel's, who had noticed Rael's sudden explosion of vehemence and braced himself. Rael's voice was a hiss, "Tali was on that ship, Gerrel. Your actions could have gotten her _killed._ What were you thinking!?" His voice quickly elevated into a shout, shoving aside the professional and calm posture he had often been associated with.

"I think you're overreacting, Rael," Gerrel replied cordially, "No one died. Tali got out okay. The flagship was eliminated. The only dead hostiles here are geth."

"For which she is _lucky_ ," Rael hissed, "If she had been a few seconds longer, she'd be dead, and you know that. How dare you-"

" _ **Gerrel!**_ "

The acidic bark caused both Rael and Gerrel to flinch, heads snapping towards the door, both Shala and Xen equally shocked by the sudden booming voice. What they found was the armoured silhouette of a tall human man standing in the doorway, alone, bright blue eyes shining with unfiltered wrath. His eyes fixed on Gerrel with pure disdain, and with a loud clatter, they watched as the helmet he had been pinning under one arm fell to the ground, left forgotten. Seconds later, with clenched fists, the human stalked forward.

"Shepard," Gerrel hesitatingly replied, watching as the human continued his silent approach towards him, "You're military. Explain to Rael how-"

"You _**piece of shit**_ ," Shepard hissed, cutting Gerrel off as he finished his approach. Moments later, like a flash of lightning, his hand shot forward and gripped Gerrel around the throat, before shoving him down like a rag doll, pinning him against the war table with a gasp as Gerrel's oesophagus was constricted, breaths coming out in loud rasps and wheezes. Violence brissled along Shepard's frame, veins popping along his naked neck as the very _sound_ of gnawing teeth could be heard as Shepard leaned forward. Rael took a step back, shaken by the sheer naked outrage he was being exposed to, trepidation filling the room, "I told you to stand down. We had the situation under control. Instead, you opened fire on the ship we were _still onboard_ , and you almost killed Tal-my squad! Who the fuck do you think you are!?"

"Admiral...of the...Heavy-"

"You're fucking _**nobody**_ ," Shepard snarled, briefly picking Gerrel up before slamming him back against the table, "I'm seriously tempted to rip your mask off and cough. You arrogant little pus sack," the man then looked up, eyes circling the room, "And all of you..." he then landed specifically on Rael, pointing at him with his free hand, " _Especially_ you...should have stopped him. Your own _daughter_ was on that ship...and she was almost _killed_. What the fuck do you have to say about that?"

"N-now w-w-wait just a m-minute!" Rael snapped back, stuttering slightly before regaining his composure, "I _tried_ to stop him! I ordered him to stand down, he ignored me! How dare you try to suggest I don't care about my daughter! Who are you to-?"

The door opened again, the voice of a woman he didn't recognize filtering into the room, "Ma'am, you can't just-!"

Then a voice he _did_ recognize.

"You _bosh'tet_ , I don't have time for your stupid weapons check! I _need_ to get in there!"

Moments later, a quarian female draped in a purple _realk_ and faceplate stepped through the doorway. She was quite different from what he was used to seeing on her: she had sections of ballistic battle plate littering her form, small sections of armor strapped to her torso, legs, shins, arms, shoulders and mask. She had a geth-designed plasma shotgun on her back, a trophy from her days fighting the geth heretics, and a small pistol sidearm on her hip. A small bandolier was wrapped around her waist, in it at least ten slots for grenades to be slotted in, almost all of them empty except for two. Her suit was dotted with blotches of white liquid, indicative of the fluid the geth used to lubricate their internal mechanisms, and thus acted as their substitute for 'blood': essentially, she was covered in geth blood.

Upon seeing the sight before her, she rushed down the steps into the war room, "Joh-ah...Shepard! Don't!"

"Back off, Tali," Shepard snapped in response, ignoring her feeble protest, as he turned his attention back to Gerrel, "I'm not done. This fucking piece of shit almost got us-"

"-killed, I know. I was there," her voice took on a softer tone now, and as Rael watched on, she gingerly reached forward with a single hand and touched his shoulder. Shepard flinched, but he didn't lash out, and instead seemed to ease at the touch. Frowning, Rael watched on as Tali squeezed his shoulder, stepping closer and shaking her head, "Come on. I think Gerrel's learnt his lesson. Please, Shepard, this doesn't help anyone. What Gerrel did was stupid, but this isn't the way to deal with it."

"You-" Shepard began, but a moment later, shook his head, explosively sighing as he finally released his herculean grip on Gerrel's neck. The admiral gasped long and elongatingly, rubbing his abused throat as he nearly collapsed to the ground from the onset of fresh oxygen, his lungs quickly compensating as he breathed deeply. He shot Shepard a scowl that the commander promptly ignored, turning to Tali with...a much softer gaze as he nodded. The nod seemed almost like a reassurance...one Tali took in stride, hand sliding off his shoulder to squeeze his arm lightly, "You're right."

Rael just frowned. _What just happened?_

Gerrel stumbled to his feet, still massaging his tender throat, coughing faintly, "Thank you, Tali...glad to see someone is seeing common sense. I would appreciate it if-"

"Admiral Gerrel, _shut up_ ," Tali snapped, "Not another word, you _bosh'tet_."

"E-e- _excuse_ me?"

"You heard her," Shepard's voiced joined hers, fixing the admiral with a glower, teeth gritted as he visibly restrained himself from lashing out again, Tali's actions having apparently tamed the man, "Shut your mouth...and while you're at it, get the fuck off my ship."

"This is ridiculous!" Gerrel protested, quickly turning to the rest of the room for support. Xen wasn't even paying attention to the argument, having already returned to reading data off her omni-tool, the conversation disinteresting her. Shala crossed her arms and simply glared back at him, making her stance clear. Finally, Gerrel, for whatever reason, believed he'd find support with Rael, eyes locking with his for a brief moment, "Rael, tell Shepard this is absurd. As admiral of the Heavy Fleet, I made a tactically sound decision-"

"The commander told you to leave, Admiral Gerrel," Rael interrupted, motioning his head towards the door, "I suggest you do so."

Momentarily shocked by his best friend's rebuttal, Gerrel, realizing he had no allies in the room, finally huffed and left, marching up the steps and out of the room, door shutting behind him. Silence filled the room as Shepard's anger finally evaporated, glad to have the subject of it absent. Rael, however, wasn't even looking at Gerrel as he left. His eyes were already fixed on Shepard: the next target for his ire.

 _Don't think I've forgotten you, rek'sag metta'ney!_

Without even thinking, Rael acted. As Shepard turned to address Rael, his body was already moving. In an instant, his fist clenched and came flying through the air in a flash. Shepard, despite having plenty of time to block the attack, simply watched as the three-fingered fist rammed into the side of his cheek, head whipping back from the impact.

The room fell into silence once more. Xen paid them no mind. Shala gasped. Shepard made no sound, simply turning back around, a bright red bruise forming along his left cheek, somewhat bewildered by what had just occurred, but not looking too surprised, almost as if he had expected the action at some point.

Tali, however, was having none of it. Her own fists clenched, she whirled to face Rael, voice raised several octaves in shock and choler, " _ **Father**_! That was absolutely unacceptable!"

Rael, filling himself unhinged emotionally by the knowledge of what Shepard had been doing with his daughter, pointed at her accusingly, "You know what _else_ is unacceptable? That you didn't _tell me_ you were... _mating_ with this man! I expect better from you, Tali!"

"I beg your pardon?" Tali snapped back, arms crossed, "You expect _better_ from me? Better from...what exactly? Shepard...no, _John_ , is a man of principle. He cares about me, and I care about him. Everything we've done for each other has been to protect the other or make them happy. As far as I'm concerned, I'm the luckiest girl not just in the Fleet, but in the entire galaxy. I've _done_ better, father. I've found someone who loves me and appreciates me for who I am! Who doesn't find fault in every little thing that I do!"

"I deserved to know!" he spat, waving his arms frantically in desperation, scrambling for a foothold in the argument, "I'm your father! When Shala said you were dating someone, I thought she meant another quarian! Instead, I have to find out through mission comms, _by accident_ , that you've...copulated with a _human_!"

"Why did you deserve to know? You haven't been a father to me for years!" Tali fired back in response, "I am a grown adult, and I can make my own decisions without your approval. I initially chose to hold back my feelings towards John because I was afraid what you or the Fleet might think. After I joined his crew again, I decided I didn't care. And I couldn't be happier. I thought you'd be happy to know I'd found someone! Instead, you punch him!"

"Why didn't you tell me!?" he barked.

"Because I _**knew this is how you would react!**_ " she roared, finally putting a damper on their back-and-forth arguing. Rael fell silent, noticing the form of his bristling daughter infront of him. Striking Shepard had prompted a fierce response from her, one he hadn't expected from what he had heard on the geth super-dread. He had assumed their relationship wasn't serious, and thus had felt disappointed in Tali for engaging in such inappropriate behaviour, and hated Shepard for taking advantage of her.

But this entire time, he had noticed Shepard hadn't attacked him in response for the hit, neither had he tried to block it when he clearly saw it coming. He simply watched the two of them as father and daughter argued, waiting for an opportunity to speak his mind. Finally, with the argument subdued, he found his way in, and cleared his throat, "Look Rael...can I call you that?"

"Admiral Zorah will do fine," he bitterly hissed. Tali shot him a glare, but he ignored her, gaze fixed firmly on Shepard, interested in what he said.

"Very well...Admiral," Shepard continued, looking entirely unaffected by Rael's intense stare, almost as if he felt the quarian was insignificant compared to him, "This was my fault. I should have confronted you about this a lot sooner. I've been interested and had feelings for your daughter ever since her pilgrimage days, but I never acted on them. I regretted not doing so, and when I finally did, it was rewarding to have your daughter reciprocate them. I don't know what you think this is, but its not that. I care for Tali...deeply. This isn't some casual fling, and I'm not using her for some political leverage. Tali is unlike any other woman I've met in my life, and she's shown me more love, support and loyalty than any other girlfriend I've had brief relationships with. Not only is your daughter special in this regard, but she's also selfless to the point of stubbornness, remarkably brilliant, brave, willing to put herself at risk for others, constantly puts her needs behind those of others, and refuses to accept compliments...and if it means anything, your daughter is also very beautiful."

Shepard didn't know it, but that last one caused a twinge in his neck, causing one of Rael's eyes to twitch. _I knew it. He's seen Tali's face. He got to see my daughter's face before even her own father. An alien._

"Is this...going somewhere?" Rael asked, trying to sound as cordial as possible.

"Yes," Shepard cleared his throat, licking his lips as he did, "What I'm trying to say is that Tali is special to me. She's not a phase. She's not part of some hormonal episode. She's not a trophy. I value her friendship immensely, and her love even more. She keeps me sane, and we keep each other together like glue. And I also want to make one thing perfectly clear," Shepard's voice took on a slightly darker tone this time, one that was very noticeable as the air seemed to get a little colder, "I will not tolerate anyone trying to drive a wedge between us. Not some racist scumbag, not some jealous admirer, and not even her own father. So I say this to you, her father, man to man, that if you try anything that could undermine our relationship, or upset Tali in anyway, I will come down on you like a fucking hammer, and I will not hesitate in making you pay for every single tear that drops down her cheek. Have I, in anyway, been unclear?"

Rael simply stared back at him, finding everyone of his expectations ruthlessly cut up and served up on a bloody silver platter. Not only had Shepard spoken with a conviction that made his heart seemingly stop beating from the intensity, but his body posture had communicated everything. Clenched fists, tensed muscles, curled lips, gritted teeth and firm gaze. Whilst talking about Tali, he had stolen a few gazes at the quarian in nature, who watched Shepard with rapturous admiration, and his state had noticeably softened each time, reminding him of the looks he used to share with Meru across the ration table in their quarters every night.

 _I loved Meru so much. She was my entire world. Her death very nearly destroyed me. To see this man sharing the same gaze with my Tali as the one Meru shared with me all those decades ago...keelah, this man really is telling the truth. I can't believe it._

For whatever reason, Commander Shepard, galactic champion and galaxy-renowned and feared war hero, had fallen for his daughter of all things...someone whose face he couldn't even see on a day-to-day basis. Somehow, he had chosen to suffer through all that, simply because he loved Tali.

And in the face of that...how could Rael find any further fault?

"I..." he began, his throat feeling dry from a lack of saliva as he formed a response, meeting Shepard's intense gaze with equal ferocity, "...thank you, Commander. I needed to be sure...I was worried you were using my daughter. I'm...pleasantly surprised. I'm...just glad to see my daughter has found happiness with someone, like I once found happiness with her mother. She's so much like her mother already...perhaps I was reminded a bit too much of her."

After a few silent moments, a small hand gripped his shoulder, and he looked up to find Tali peering at him, the angle he was provided of her visor allowing him the slight curvature of her lips underneath the tinted glass, and the sad smile they had formed, "I...wanted to tell you, father. But I was afraid...of what you'd say. I thought you'd reject John. And while it ultimately wouldn't matter, and I'd be with him regardless of what you say, I...value your opinion much more than you think. I wanted your blessing, father. I wanted your approval. I _still_ want it."

Rael felt elation at hearing that, perking up at hearing it. Despite the rift that had formed between them, regardless of how he had treated her, Tali had still desperately craved her father's love so much that she felt the need to get his approval for the man she wanted to live her life with. It warmed his heart to know she still loved him in this way, and that his preconceptions about her attitude towards him at been completely wrong. She resented him, but never had she stopped loving him. And it was clear that she was beginning to realize her own preconceptions of him were beginning to fall apart as well.

"And...you have it," he stated softly, before raising his voice so Shepard could hear him as well, turning towards Shepard with a small smile and a nod, "For better or worse, you have my approval to be with this man. You better treat her well, Shepard, or you will find my wrath is just as potent as yours."

A grin formed on Shepard's lips, "Of that, I have no doubt."

" _Well_ ," came Xen's voice, everybody turning to find the admiral had been patiently, or rather _impatiently_ , waiting for their conversation to wrap up before she intervened, "If all this _drama_ has finally been dealt with, perhaps we can-"

" _Keelah!_ _ **GETH! GET DOWN!**_ "

Rael, frowning, found Xen and Shala taking cover, the latter of which having shouted in alarm, and quickly spun around to the source of the perturbation. What he found caused his blood to chill and his brain to freeze, his eyes locked on the subject in question as he found himself rooted to the spot in a mixture of fear and apprehension.

There, framed in the doorway, stood the enemy of his ancestors. The root of his people's misery and heartache. The final obstacle between them and their homeworld.

A geth.

"Shepard-Commander," the machine announced, its electronic voice booming across the room, bright flashing optics making its head easy to spot as it stepped from the shadows and stepped down into the room, "We offer assistance."

Rael, his fear forgotten, spun to face Shepard, who was now looking very awkward, rubbing the back of his neck. Tali rubbed her faceplate, her knowledge of this event obvious and baffling to Rael, even as the quarian tried to make herself scarce. To the geth's credit, its optics twisted around the room, trying to evaluate why its prompt was met by silence, and after it received no acceptable answer, it finally turned back to Shepard, "Shepard-Commander, has this platform erred in its phraseology? Or have the Creators not yet been informed of this unit's peaceful intentions? We do not wish to cause harm."

" _Keelah_ ," came Tali's subtle, exasperated whisper.

Rael's gaze remained fixed on Shepard's, and the commander finally turned to address him.

His voice was like a raspy crackle, "Commander... _what in the hell is this!?_ "

The geth's headflaps shifted slightly, moving up and down, before coming to rest in place around its head again, "Shepard-Commander, we believe there has been a miscommunication. An explanation would seem preferrable to preserve this platform's safety."

It appeared there was a lot of things Rael'Zorah didn't know about the Commander. And he couldn't tell if he was looking forward to learning more, or terrified at the prospect.

Just who had his daughter fallen for?

* * *

 _ **And there you have it, PATR1OTJD. This prompt wasn't nearly as difficult as I was expecting it to be, so I'm happy about that. I also re-read the original Snippets prompt this was a sequel to so that I could understand the mindset of Rael at the time, and perfect the circumstances leading up to the situation. And, as I already mentioned, I deliberately removed the section where it was implied, if not directly confirmed, that the two had sex on the dreadnought, because even for comedic purposes, that scene was a) blatantly unrealistic, and thus violated my one rule for fanfiction making and b) was just a tad over-the-top, and probably turned what was a funny prompt into something that required a suspension of disbelief. I feel like them flirting was more than enough: having them drop to the deck and performing a live presentation of the birds-and-the-bees documentary really stretched the believability to the max, if not exceeding it.**_

 _ **Anyway, so yeah, that was removed, and I hope it didn't compromise the effectiveness of the prompt for you, and that you still enjoyed it. Rael'Zorah in ME3 definitely is a concept that hasn't been explored much by other fanfiction writers from what I've seen, and I may even incorporate it in some later fics that I write. Maybe. Its got the potential for some interesting new situations. Only other story I've seen where Rael survived was Absence of the Heart by SneakyFox, and...well, we all know what happened to her, unfortunately. :(**_

 _ **Anyway, I'm rambled for too long. I hope you enjoyed the prompt! Feel free to make more in the future!**_


	12. Snapshot 11: Worlds Between Us

_**This prompt was put forward by an unnamed guest. Not much else I can say on that point. I'm not even sure they'll end up seeing this, since I can't PM them to inform their prompt is next, but whatever. Hopefully they're following updates like a hawk and will see it. Either way, here's the prompt in its finished form. Enjoy.**_

* * *

 _September 15, 2190_ _._

He was a fool. A damn fool. A man of wasted opportunity, a man of poor timing, a man of inscrutable idiocy.

As this man looked down upon the pale blue dot that was his homeworld from the safety of his flagship, he pondered the shortcomings of his life. He measured them in dispondent glumness, unforgiving and merciless in the personal analysis of his own failures. He was a man of successes and achievements, but was burdened with the knowledge that he failed the one thing that was more important than all of those victories, and thus rendered them irrelevant in his mind.

The observation deck of the SSV _Arbiter_ was larger than its _Kilimanjaro_ -class predecessor. Bullet proof glass was all that seperated him from the vacuum of space, providing him a window into the cosmic wonder of the dark void. As such, he was given a prime time view of the world below, shimmering lights representing continents drenched in darkness sparkling like reflections on water. Cloud cover passed over like blankets of hot steam, and the blue of the Pacific and Atlantic oceans seemed to press onto the horizon itself, endless swathes of deep abyss spreading as far as the eye could see. Lying in high orbit were platforms upon platforms: geosynchronous ODPs, traffic guidance beacons, comm buoys and space stations of varying purpose and design. And above them all, rested the largest space station of them all: the Citadel. Capital of galactic civilization, the heart of a conspiracy, and the key to saving the galaxy, and formerly providing its damnation.

He observed all of this as he stood there, completely silent, simply observing and making mental notes of what he saw. A squadron of SX3 Thunderbolt fighters passed by the _Arbiter_ , the sounds of their engines muted by the soundlessness of space, making it seem as if they were part of a film whose sound couldn't be heard. Off in the distance, a patrol of frigates running fleet maneveurs could be seen, followed observationally by an asari destroyer, the design philosophy disparity clear for all to see.

But none of it mattered. Everything he saw was the product of a peace long won, four years on from the fact, and not a single part of it resonated with him anymore. The people under his command, his state-of-the-art dreadnought, his rank, the people he served...he didn't care for it. They were just distractions he used to calm himself. Divert his attention away from his inevitable descent into self-pity and self-immolation. He was a wayless lost soul, travelling amongst a conglomeration of self-assured people. When they saw him, they saw a man tempered and hardened by years of strife and conflict, a man who had seen it all, come out on top and would see them through the next decade.

Inside, he a man on the verge of collapsing. All the weight he had burdened for years...it was all threatening to crush him under its enormous pressure, squashing him like a bug, keen to remind him of his insignificance should he lose what little humility the galaxy now permitted him.

He was a Fleet Admiral. In command of the Alliance Fourth Fleet, currently rebuilding after its devastating losses. His command ship, the _Arbiter_ , was the lead ship of a new class of warship using new technologies, making it superior in every way to the _Kilimanjaro_ and _Everest_ -classes of old, and marking a new dawn in Alliance engineering and ship design. Her weapon systems were extensive, her thanix cannon devastating, her trial runs remarkable. She was a ship ahead of her time, leaving the turians in awe at her magnificence, the salarians shivering in peril as they perceived its potential for destruction, and the asari quivering as they realized the _Ascension_ -class had finally come across a worthy match. It was a ship he should feel proud at commanding, a ship he should feel priviledged to be the very first to lead. Admiral Hackett had even suggested the vessel to him after his old ship, the _Normandy_ , was decommissioned and scrapped a year ago, replaced by the newer _Normandy III_ -class stealth frigate _Normandy_ SR-3, which he had politely refused command of. He hadn't explained his reasons for doing so, but neither was he under any obligation to do so.

By all rights...the ship should be his. He was the man of the hour, the first human Spectre and admiral who had led a galactic military alliance to wage total war against the Reapers. The SR-3, regardless of military convention, was rightfully his ship. Hackett had even suggested as such, immediately offering the ship to him to command. But for whatever reason...the very same self-doubts that were gnawing away at his resolve had urged him to refuse. To take another vessel for his new flagship. To leave behind the _Normandy_ 's legacy and step forward into the grave he had set for himself.

He had damned himself...and he deserved to wallow in it.

He was clad in his uniform. Cap fitted over his head, his tight admiral's dress uniform fitted over his torso, legs and arms. His rank was emblazoned across his left breast. His beard was cropped closely to his face, a result of his momentary lapse in regulation, and his skin was crinkled like sandpaper, palms calloused and eyes raw and weary. Red rings hung heavy under his eyelids, informing anyone that saw or talked to him that this was a man who did not sleep well. Many would pass it off as PTSD from the war, from the things he had seen.

They weren't entirely wrong...but they weren't right either. Many things kept him awake at night, causing him to scream as he shot from his bed. Sometimes he'd even cry, but those were few and far between.

Because a man who had learnt to hold back his tears for so long was not one to break habit, even when he was in immense emotional pain and suffering the worst mental torment.

His position was the career military officer's dream. He had his own ship, commanded a dreadnought, was an admiral, had fought through numerous campaigns and was a renowned war hero in not one, not two, not three, but _four_ conflicts. He had killed thresher maws on foot, battled geth in hand-to-hand, fought side by side with a krogan battlemaster, toppled a terrorist organization and helped annihilate a hyper-advanced machine race. He was living the dream.

In reality, his current path was one fraught with regret and self-contempt. He had chosen this path about blindness, obtuseness and stupidity. He had done so aimlessly, and he had done so because, despite everything his reputation purported...

...he was a coward. A complete and total coward. And it was all because he simply couldn't tell the woman he loved...that he loved her. He couldn't simply tell her he cared, that he felt the same, that he wanted her. Instead, he had danced around the topic, refused to tell her because of a misguided allegiance to military rules on fraternization, and because he had believed she was better off finding someone else. She wasn't even human, he had told himself. She was an alien, and couldn't possibly feel the same about him, he had convinced himself. But the more excuses he came up with not to tell her, the deeper the rabbit hole went. The more the loneliness set in.

And the harder the paranoia became. He was terrified he'd wake up one day and find she had gotten together with someone else. He dreaded the day where she would die, and he'd have to tell her how he felt only in the moments that she was passing. He had tried to muster the courage to tell her during their many missions, but each time it became easier and easier to simply delay it for another mission. Then another. Then one more. Then another. Eventually, the war was over, and he was no closer to dating the woman he had fallen for. He wasn't even sure if she was interested in him.

And now, four years later, he must have figured he was too late. After the war ended, his former crew had practically gone their seperate ways. Sure, they hung around long enough for him to recover, but then once he had, they had to move on, their own duties to perform. She had hung on the longest, staying at his side, but in the end, even she had left, returning to her place on Rannoch, her newly acquired homeworld, to help her people rebuild. Watching her leave, and seeing her for what could have been the last time in person, was the hardest goodbye he'd ever choked out. It had taken all his willpower not to breakdown there and then.

Now, four years on, she had probably found someone else: another one of her people, maybe. Hell, she might be engaged now for all he knew. Despite the two of them keeping in contact regularly, they barely discussed their personal lives with each other, electing to keep their careers out of their conversations. He had entertained the illusion that her constant contact with him was evidence of her feelings for him, but he had shaken that off as wishful thinking. Still, he leapt at every opportunity he got to converse with her over the extranet, sometimes even setting aside his own, menial duties for her. Her accent, her laugh, her eyes and the soothing nature of her voice were things he always looked forward to. Having something to talk about other their work was something he liked too.

Neither of them were happy with their current jobs. Both of them were admirals, both of them had politics interfering with their work, and both of them had to attend pointless fundraisers and meetings where they listened to self-indulgent assholes and plutocrats waffle about political crap and other things they couldn't care about. The two shared many a laugh at the many situations they were embroiled in. But they both knew, in the end, that what they were doing was important, and that they couldn't fathom leaving these tasks to anybody else.

Well, she couldn't at least. He still couldn't understand why he had even accepted this position. He hated it. He missed the adrenaline of combat, the intoxicating scent of cordite and smoking barrels as he spewed metal death at his enemies, one bullet at a time. The kickback of his rifle, the punishing impact of a bullet slamming into his bulletproof armor to remind him of his morality, the welcoming thump of his fist sailing into some scumbag's face. He was in command, he was in control. He missed it all.

And now he just sat behind a desk, filing papers, attending meetings and spending late nights catching up on field reports. Life couldn't get more dull. It was as the cautionary tale went: becoming an admiral is a full time job. If you want a happy nuclear family life, don't become an admiral. Quit while you're ahead. Apparently he had heard that loud and clear, and that's why he became an admiral. Because he had no one.

The only woman he loved was thousands of light years away, in a different cluster on the other side of the galaxy, and she wasn't even aware of how he felt. As a result, he spent the next four years alone. His friends were out continuing their lives. They were all leading lives of purpose: whether it be living life to its fullest, or leading a people to mutual glory. He, on the other hand, spent his life on a dreadnought that never left orbit of the same planet. He had a crew he rarely talked to outside of giving them orders. His XO was a hardass he couldn't relate to, his chief engineer wasn't anywhere near as efficient as his previous one, he wasn't allowed to lead ground teams, and the most familiar person he got to talk to was Hackett, and he largely only appeared during admiralty meetings. Which he _despised_ having to attend.

And through all of it...the worst part was living with the regret. Knowing his life could be happier, could be different, could have developed differently, if he had simply had the guts to say how he felt. To tell her how much he valued her friendship, her loyalty, her presence. He should have done it seven years ago, but he didn't. He could have done it six years ago, but refused. In the end, he was left to bottle up all his emotions, and he was a complete wreck as a result.

And it was nobody's fault but his own. Sometimes life just wasn't fair.

Standing there, hands clasped behind his back, he was quickly made aware that somebody was approaching from the opposite end of the deck. The observation deck was usually a bustle of activity when the ship wasn't in combat operations or on patrol, but with a lot of the crew on shore leave as of today, the skeleton crew left behind left the deck well enough alone: good for him, allowing him some peace of mind and the ability to escape the operational clutter and noise of the ship's day-to-day crew performance. The ship could afford to do without its captain on the bridge for a few hours.

So hearing the sound of footsteps echoing through the deck immediately drew his attention. He didn't turn to address the person in question, knowing that they would give their report regardless, so he continued his pensive observation of the space beyond. Even as the person in question, his tactical officer, gave his designated report to the admiral, he was only paying perfunctory attention, and zoned out during some segments. Eventually, when the officer had finished giving his report, he remembered droning out the usual "excellent work, I'll read over it more later", hearing the officer snap to attention and salute him, him returning the salute, and the clip-clap of the man's footsteps as he left the deck, allowing tranquility to return to the space he inhabited.

Knowing he needed to return to his duties soon, he sighed and left the deck, scratching his chin. These same thoughts had plagued him for years incessantly, refusing to allow him a moment's respite. A man such as him shouldn't live with regrets, but fortunately and unfortunately for him, he only had one. And it just so happened to be one he would never be able to accept. Never recover from. It was a regret he wished he could correct, could fix. Never had he felt like a bigger failure than he did right now.

All his defenses threatened to be stripped bare, revealing his exposed, emotional interior. He had never felt for a woman like he had felt for her before, and despite all of that, he had taken the cowardly way out and never told her. And now...it was too late.

He was always too late.

* * *

 _September 17, 2190_.

It had been six days since he made his decision. Six days since he realized he couldn't take it anymore. The burden became too much for him, and in that moment, he had snapped. He would end this uncertainty, once and for all.

He was going to tell her. Today.

He couldn't recall when he had reached this particular decision. Perhaps it had been from the moment he left the observation deck and returned to reading reports in his quarters on the _Arbiter_ six days ago. Perhaps it was after his latest vid call with her a day later. Or perhaps it had been during the latest admiralty meeting, when he had practically shouted down Admiral Daniel Waldock of the Second Fleet during a discussion regarding the possibility of deploying the _Arbiter_ as part of a dreadnought task group to deal with a spillover of the slave revolts in the Batarian Hegemony. He had adamantly opposed the deployment, although he didn't really know why until that night, when he had time to think about it. In the end, everything had begun to click together, and he hit an epiphany.

The next morning, he cleared his schedule for a week, passed command over to Rear Admiral Arakaki Kaoru, made a request for a week long shore leave (which was summarily granted) and took off in one of the _Arbiter_ 's shuttles. He hadn't offered the admiralty a destination or explanation, nor was he obligated to provide one, and he had, without delay, headed for the nearest mass relay.

His destination? Rannoch.

The entire trip there, which had taken three days by shuttle, had been one of festering self-doubt, mental second guessing and sleepless nights. His mind was constantly running through every likely scenario, reminding him time and time again of his previous failures, and using them as examples of why he would fail this time. His own mind was relentless in its degenerating and harmful despondency, taking him apart piecemeal and having its way with him in the claustrophobic and isolated environment of the shuttle. He had no one else to talk to, nobody to distract him. Just his own voice to keep him company.

His actions were the result of a last minute decision he had not planned or created a contingency for. He had rushed head first into this action, knowing that if he had taken time to plan it and make the appropriate preparations, he would ultimately succumb to the oblivion of his own vacillation, and eventually give up and return to his dull, otiose life. No, he would not allow that to happen anymore. He was sick of rolling over and taking it. Tired with the regret and loneliness and wistful nature of his past. He was deteriorating as a result, and if he allowed this to overcome him much longer, he didn't think he could take it. At least if he told her...well, the pressure would go away, wouldn't it?

Thing is...he didn't know that to be certain.

He had to remind himself that it had been four years. That was nearly half a decade. That was a long time. Any number of things could have happened: she was either never interested and eventually found and settled down with someone (odd she never mentioned it to him, though), or she was, believed he wasn't, and then moved on and found someone else. The possibilities were endless, and the dubiety of the situation felt like two anvils pressing around his skull. He simply couldn't handle it much longer.

And what if she wasn't interested? What if he ruined their friendship?

None of it mattered in his mind. Four years of mental torture and painful lamentations on 'what could have been' were simply too much for him to handle. He valued their friendship: he truly did. It was that reason why it taken him four years to make this decision, knowing it could possibly destroy what they had. And if she wasn't interested...well, he was convinced he could handle rejection more than the uncertainty of it. Rejection was at least a confirmation.

Three days later, and after 72 hours of wrestling with his own psyche, he finally got approval from quarian orbital control to descend. All it had taken was to give a single mention of his name and his rank, and they had waved him through. No quarian would ever forget the man who had made the Treaty of Rannoch possible, especially after verifying him with the Admiralty Board, who knew him on a face-to-face basis. So with that being said and done, his descent into Rannoch's atmosphere had taken very little influence on his part.

As his shuttle cut through Rannoch's stratosphere, he had made a few quick calls to the Admiralty itself, making sure they knew who he was, passing on official identification to assure them of his status, and then making an inquiry into their fellow admiral's location. They knew he was good friends with her, and didn't hesitate in offering up the location, although he insisted she not be informed. And with that, he had inputted the coordinates and made his descent.

Oddly enough, she had chosen to isolate herself from other quarians, her home and residence established two kilometers outside the capital of El'Tivv. When he finally saw the structure itself, he was surprised by the spacious nature of it, the large double-storied house being enough to fit an entire quarian clan by the looks of it. Given her conversations in the past regarding quarian standards of living, this was a surprising development. But after all...it had been four years.

Plenty of things had changed.

He wasted no time in parking the shuttle, waiting until the steady thrum of the engines had toned down into silence and the onboard systems had registered the vehicle's complete deactivation, the scissoring hatch ultimately shooting open in response. He sat there for a few seconds, taking a deep breath in through his nose, and out again. His hands began to shake, but he steadied them by clenching around the console. Nervousness threatened to overcome him, but he refused to be gripped by fear. He had let this happen before, and it had done nothing but render him a hopeless recreant. He was fed up with getting the short end of the stick.

He was the Savior of the Galaxy. He had faced down two kilometer tall Reapers and won. He could damn well tell the woman he loved how he felt.

So, one by one, he wrenched his body free of the seat he had plopped down in for the flight, and marched out of the hatch and made a beeline straight for the front door of the gargantuan house.

No more. The shadows would hold him back no longer. This was his moment of truth. Rejection or not, he had to do this. The agony of keeping it to himself was too overwhelming.

And that's how he found himself at the front door of his friend's house, fist poised to knock against the wooden door of her home. He hesitated for the briefest of moments, seriously contemplating what he was about to do, before his former self rose to prominence once again, bashing aside his self-doubt and reminding him of who he was.

The Commander. The Savior. The N7 and the Spectre. No more hiding. _No more_.

And so he knocked. He waited patiently for a few seconds, and then knocked again.

An additional six seconds passed before he heard movement behind the door, and the knob began to turn. He stiffened, straightening up as the moment arrived. An echo of his former self shone brightly in his stance: hands at his side, head held high, jaw tense and firm. He didn't want her to see the emotional wreck he had become in her absence. To see what his life looked like without her. He didn't want to guilt trip her. He needed to know her feelings for him, if she had any, were _genuine_.

He readied himself just as the door finally opened, his eyes meeting those of her-

A red suited male quarian stood in the doorway, eying him for a moment, eyes narrowed. His muscular form was similar to his, and the red veil he wore over the back of his helmet, and had draped around the rest of his torso, solidified this man's status as a marine and member of the military. He carried himself with strength and conviction. And he was a man he recognized in an instant, and it all clicked in his mind.

The quarian's eyes ceased their glare as he recognized who he was looking at, posture turning from tense to relaxed, "Shepard?"

He gulped, nodding in return, "Reegar. Nice to see you."

It was all too obvious why Reegar was here. I mean...why else would the veteran soldier, who was one of her best friends from her childhood, be in her home, answering the door? He would have to be an idiot not to see it, and an even bigger one to deny what was right infront of him. _She's found someone else. I knew it. Four years, Shepard...you waited too damn long. You're too late. You blew it._

"You too, sir," the quarian replied cordially, widening the door further to grant him entrance, "Tali's just-"

He almost shook his head, but knew that would draw suspicion from the marine, and the last thing he needed on his return to the _Arbiter_ would be the spectre of humiliation to his name. He felt like such a child. _I should have expected this. Tali's had four years to create a new life for herself. She's earned this. I can't blame her for my mistakes. She's probably happy now...that's all I can really expect. As long as she's happy..._

Instead, he nodded, waving his hand dismissively, "No, its fine. Was uh...just in the neighbourhood. Tell her I said...hi...and that I'll be...in touch...yeah..." and without another word, he turned and marched back down the steps, making sure his posture looked every bit as confident as it should be for an admiral, and hopefully erasing any doubt in Reegar's mind as to Shepard's mental state after that stutter-filled failure of an explanation Shepard had just offered.

With the shuttle in sight, he couldn't wait to get out of here and cleanse himself of his embarassment. _I'm such a fucking idiot. I came all this way just to learn that she's found someone else. I didn't even get to talk to her. I just...this was such a waste of time. I should have known this would happen. Any other expectation would have been pure-_

"Shepard! Shepard, wait!"

He stuttered for a moment, his eyes widening in alarm. He almost tripped from his sudden cessation of movement, body taking a few seconds to catch up to what his mind was telling him. The voice was unmistakably _hers_.

"Shepard, please wait," she repeated, just as he finally stopped and turned around, twisting on the spot but making no movement other than that. The form of his quarian best friend, having practically sprinted from the house, stopped infront of him, not looking winded at all: clear evidence of her combat experience. Reegar stood at the doorway, arms crossed and waving at him, but otherwise made no attempt to continue his conversation with the human. The fact that Tali had sprinted out to meet him meant she must have been pretty excited to see Shepard.

 _Perhaps she-? Wait, no, don't read into it. She probably didn't want to let me leave without saying goodbye. She's just being a good friend._

"Shepard," the quarian peered at him, her head cocked, "I wasn't expecting you to be here. You never said you were coming to visit! I would prepared the house a little better if I knew you were coming!" She sounded positively convivial, like his mere presence was causing her to leap for joy. This, however, was completely lost on Shepard as he nodded meekly, a tired smile stretching across his lips.

"Yeah, I uh...just wanted to say hello," he lied, rubbing the back of his neck, "Wanted...to see how you were going."

He should have known lying to someone like Tali was a waste of time, and the quarian admiral had no trouble picking up on the flaws in his narrative, "But...you said you were in orbit of Earth just four days ago during our last conversation," she crossed her arms, and he couldn't help the increase in the smile on his face as she began tearing apart his argument, her analytical mind having no trouble finding his errors and addressing them, "I know that most militaries, especially the Alliance, wouldn't allow you to use a gigantic state-of-the-art dreadnought as a bus, so the only way you could have come here is if you took time off of work, and took a shuttle. And with your ship in orbit of Earth, it would take a shuttle at max FTL speeds and using every mass relay at least three days to get here. Shepard, there is no way you took a three-day shuttle ride here just to 'say hello.'"

With that, she glared at him, but he knew it held no malice: she was simply skeptical about his story, which she had every right to be. After all, he hadn't prepared for potentially meeting her boyfriend, especially a boyfriend who he already knew, and thus had been forced to come up with a hasty response.

He sighed, scratching the stubble around his lower jaw, "I...you're right."

 _Should I tell her anyway?_

 _She's got a boyfriend, you fool! What would be the point?_

 _Better to face rejection than deal with the knowledge of her never knowing. I'd rather her know that be kept in the dark. I can't keep going like this. Its tearing me up inside. Constant regret. No reprieve or respite from it._

In the end, he decided it would be best if he did tell her. At least then he would be able to find out if she was, at one point or another, ever interested in him. Then he could finally move on with his life, and the two could enter new chapters in their lives. It was for the best. It _had_ to be done.

Tali, still waiting, remained silent as he continued, "Tali, there's...something I've wanted to tell you. For a while. Ever since...our time fighting Saren and the geth. Our campaign against _Harbinger_ and the Collectors. I didn't have...I guess you could say I didn't have guts to tell you before. I waited too long...six years too long, to tell you. And while I highly doubt it matters much now, I can't help but feel the need to tell you anyway. To...lift this weight off my chest. To finally put it out in the open."

He couldn't tell, but he could have sworn Tali's posture had loosened up, her arms were slowly falling to her sides, hands meeting in the middle as her fingers began to tug and pull at each other in that cute adorable gesture of nervousness she used to conform to that he adored about her, and her eyes softened behind the mask. Something about her posture radiated curiosity...but most of all, a need to know.

He opened his mouth to speak, but faltered for a moment. He suddenly felt a wave of shame wash over him, causing him to look away in self-contempt. He felt his eyes glaze over, looking with dubious focus at the tuft of grass to his immediate right, not willing to admit his shame and look her in the eyes. But in that moment...he felt a presence that was both shocking, and welcoming.

A three-fingered hand grasped his left shoulder, clasping it tightly. His head, almost like it was being pulled by unseen strings, yanked his focus back to her, finding her eyes latched onto his, like they were trying to peer into the inner depths of soul. Her hand did not move, and in a soft but assured voice, she spoke, "Shepard...this thing you need to tell me...please, I need to hear it. I think...I think we both do."

He faltered again, but this time, it was because of incertitude. Her tone sounded...almost pleading. Like she was...predicting what he was going to say, and was willing him to continue in the hope he would confirm her beliefs. A small spark of hope flickered inside him, spurred on but the optimism that he seemed to hear in her voice. He felt himself perk up more than a little, but he kept his expectations to a minimum, knowing that her boyfriend was standing at her doorway not too far away, and not exactly completely out of earshot, "I...Tali, look...this isn't...I just want you to know that whatever I say next...I don't want it to ruin our friendship. Hell, I shouldn't even be here. This is..." he waved a dismissive hand, and moved to turn around, "...a waste of time. I'm sorry to bother you. I'll just-"

The hand on his shoulder was unyielding however, and before he knew it, she had used her grip on that very arm to pull him back towards her, pivoting on the spot until he was directly facing her once more. Another hand landed on his other shoulder, but she made no movement to get any closer, illustrating her own sense of hesitation as she kept a barely measurable distance between them. Her voice was barely more than a whisper, but her tone was uncompromising, "Please, Shepard...let it out. No more games."

He frowned at her. Was there something she knew that he didn't? Why the sudden assertiveness? Was she...perhaps suggesting that she _knew_? Knew exactly what he was going to say, and wanted him to come out with it? If that was the case, then why? Reegar, her boyfriend, was right outside the house, watching them.

In the end though, he knew he could never deny her anything she asked for, and that was his ultimate weakness. He loved her so much, but had been forced to do so from afar, never allowing himself a mount's respite, or a single opportunity to slip by him where he would accidentally unveil his feelings. But now here he was, about to strip that all away, revealing his raw emotional interior.

Coming undone at the seams, he finally took down his defenses and hit the heart of the issue. There was no point in trying to delay it any longer, "Tali...I've wanted to tell you this for years, but I...have feelings for you. I've had them since our days fighting Saren, but I never acted on them. I still had them when you fought by my side during the Collector campaign and the Reaper War, but I kept them to myself because I didn't think it was appropriate. Four years on...those feelings haven't diminished. They won't go away. I've tried to put you out of my mind, but I can't. Talking to you on vidcom makes my day better because I get to talk to you. I denied it to myself for so long, but its eating me up now. Its pointless for me to deny it: I love you, Tali."

 _There it is. All out in the open. Done. Now you can piss off back to your shuttle, return to Earth and mope in your misery. Whatever point there was to this has been satisfied._ But he couldn't move. And Tali wasn't exactly retreating either: she remained in the exact same position, eyes searching his for any evidence that what he had said was incontrovertibly false, and was done purely to mock her and shatter her happiness.

He didn't know what to think of her silence: was she thinking of how best to offer a platitude so he wouldn't feel bad for her rejecting him? Was she shocked and uncomfortable by his admission? Or perhaps she was considering how best to conserve what remained of the friendship he had just destroyed.

Suddenly however, without warning, she took a step forward, followed by another. In the space of a second, she was now standing mere inches away from him, hands drifting down to grip his upper arms with a feather lightness. He was fully aware of her mask nearly touching his nose, and he gulped audibly and unwillingly, finding his mouth to be drying up rapidly. His eyes never left hers, but her sudden gesture was both puzzling and welcomed. He opened his mouth to continue, to assure her that he would keep his feelings to himself and let her live her life, but she had already raised a finger to his lips, causing him to shut his mouth almost as soon as her vocalizer lit up with her own response, "Keelah, I wish you had said something... _done_ something...I've waited so long to hear you say that."

That was the final straw for him. His eyes widened, tense posture lethargically slackening. _What?_ He initially believed he was hallucinating what she had said, but as he tried to decipher this possibility, she continued, "Its been a long time for me too, Shepard. I've wanted to tell you how I felt for just as long as you did, but I had no idea if you would share the same feelings. I thought perhaps I'd be taking advantage, or you'd just see me as somekind of love sick little girl. Most of all...I never thought you'd see past...this," she motioned to her mask, "...that you'd even bother to acknowledge me. But then I watched and waited, wondering if perhaps I'd been too late and Liara or Miranda or Ashley had gotten to you first. But time and time again, neither of them showed any interest in you, and I assumed perhaps you didn't have time for a relationship and tried to give up. But in the end...my mind never did. I fooled myself into thinking I had moved on, but I hadn't. Every day these last four years...I've felt lonely, depressed and regretful. I've wondered constantly at what we could have had, and I even entertained what I thought to be a delusion and envisioned telling you how I felt. But I never did. And I assumed you had just...moved on. Found someone else. Six years is...a long time to wait."

 _You're right. It is. Oh god, it is..._

It took him longer than he would have liked to subdue the dumbfounded expression on his face, the sheer shock at Tali's revelation too much for him to handle. For six years, he had led himself to believe that his feelings would never be reciprocated...but here she was, telling him that they not only were returned in full, but that she had been burdened with the same mental crisis that he had been. They had both wanted each other, both wondered if the other was interested, but both had kept their feelings internalized to protect the other's happiness. And now...the floodgates were opened, and the truth revealed.

And it felt glorious.

The first thing Shepard did when he shook free of his self-restraint was to wrap his arms around her and pull the quarian close. To her credit, she accepted the gesture with grace, embracing him in response. They both laughed awkwardly, their jubilation shared mutually as they pressed their bodies against each other tightly. He pressed his face into the crook of her neck, while her right hand reached up and stroked the back of his head. After six years, it was all out. The feelings they had denied themselves for six years were unleashed, and they were not wasting a second of it. Minutes went by as they simply held each other, contented by the other's presence.

Shepard was euphoric. His tired, lonely and battered demeanour suddenly felt cured, as if Tali's admission had cleansed him. While still tired, he no longer felt the same depression weighing him down that he had been subject to for four years. He no longer felt alone, not with Tali holding him tightly and giggling along with him, her beautiful voice soothing him to the core. Just days ago, he had been on the verge of being drive insane by his mistakes. If he had asked himself whether or not he'd be in the arms of the quarian he loved in less than a week, he'd have bitterly told himself to fuck off.

Finally, the two parted, but never let go, holding each other at a reasonable distance, while their foreheads (Tali's mask, in this case) remained linked, tilting against the other as they continued to laugh, doing so until they no longer had the energy or the need to keep going. Silence reigned over them for another minute, before Shepard finally shook his head, "I...I've dreaded this moment since I decided to come here. I've dreaded your rejection, I've dreaded finding out that you have a boyfriend or a husband, and that you've moved on...I've dreaded it everyday. I never thought you'd share my feelings. That you'd...wait four years...for me..."

Tali nodded, the hand that had been on his head reaching down to cup his cheek. He couldn't help leaning into it. There was something so mesmerizing about her touch, "In truth, neither did I. I fully expected myself to move on...just as I believed you wouldn't wait four years for me. Keelah, we've been such...fools. All this time, all that lost time..." And in that moment...it all hit her. Six years wasted. Time they could have had together, wasted. And with that...she began to sob.

Reacting on reflex, he brought her forward until he embraced her protectively, rubbing the back of her hood soothingly, the quarian crying into his shoulder. Despite himself, he found a measure of strength in his voice he didn't realize he had, and it quickly became apparent that her revelation had emboldened him to a degree he hadn't felt since the end of the Reaper War, "Its okay...we'll...make up for lost time, yeah? We've lost six years...and it'll be hard to make up for that, but now that we know how we feel about each other, how bad could it be? Think about it...no Reapers, no Cerberus, no mercs trying to kill us...we'll have so much time on our hands we won't know what to do with ourselves."

This seemed to do the job, as Tali stopped crying, pulling up and craning her head up until she looked at him directly, "You're right...but you'll be on Earth. You're an admiral. You can't just-"

For the first time in a while, he chuckled, "Oh Tali...really? I only became an admiral because I didn't know what else to do. If I had told you all those years ago how I had really felt, I don't think I'd be wearing that uniform. I'd be here, with you, on Rannoch, building you that house your father promised you and helping your people rebuild."

She cocked her head at him, blinking in disbelief, "Really? You'd have done that?"

He nodded with assurance, "Tali, I love you. I've never had feelings for a woman like I've had for you before. That tells me you're special, and the fact I still held those feelings four years on after I believed you'd moved on, says even more. I was never cut out to be an admiral. Every day for the past four years has been a living hell, and I've found no joy in it. I don't enjoy my work in the Alliance like I used to, and that's because I miss having you around."

Tali slowly bobbed her head, acknowledging every word he had said as being mutually shared, "I'm...glad you feel that way. I wouldn't want you to abandon your career over me."

He squeezed her gently with his arms, breathing in and out through his nose with gentle sighs of air, feeling at peace for the first time in what felt like forever, "Its okay. When I get the chance...I'm going to hand in my resignation and come live here with you," he quickly corrected himself, stuttering a little, "...I mean, if that's okay with you. I hope I'm not being too presumptuo-"

She laughed, punching his chest playfully as she finally parted from him, sniffing a little, "Don't be such a _bosh'tet_. Of course you're welcome to stay here. I'll find you a room too. I don't have any levo supplies, but I'm sure I could procure some from the capital, at least until you get your own supply coming in. I'm sure Kal can help with that as well."

He frowned, turning to find Kal was no longer present, having likely returned to the inside of the house. He turned back to Tali, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck, "So you and Kal...you aren't...uh...?"

Tali frowned for a second, before her eyes widened, eyes glancing back and forth from where Shepard was indicating and back to her human lover in an instant, before she punched his arm, laughing incredulously, "Me...and _Kal_? You thought we...? No! Kal is like an older brother to me! He would never... _I_ would never do that. Shepard, he's only at my house to keep me company: we're having lunch. I did mention loneliness, did I not?"

He shrugged innocently, giving a tired laugh of his own, "Yeah, I guess you did. I was just worried that you-"

"Enough of that," she waved away his concern, turning to motion to her house, "Let this be perfectly clear: _I was single_. I was seeing no one, dating no one, and I certainly haven't begun bonding with anyone...well, no quarians," she rubbed her shoulder absent-mindedly, before nodding back towards her house, "In all these four years, you're the only man I've had feelings for. And as of this moment, you are my boyfriend, got it?"

He held up his hands defensively, grinning from ear to ear. _Hearing her call me her boyfriend. I never thought I'd hear those words leaving her mouth, associated with me_. He was practically giddy, "Understood, Miss vas Normandy."

Her eyes narrowed behind the mask, but he could tell, from years of learning to read her physical mannerisms, that she was likely smiling, "Come on, you look hungry. Thirsty. And tired. I'll have Kal make a run up to El'Tivv while we...do some catching up."

He smiled, happier than he's ever been as he followed her towards the house, "I'd really like that."

As they moved towards the house, Tali slowed down to allow him to catch up. And just as they reached the front steps, her right hand slid into his left, her three fingers interlaced with his five. She gave a light squeeze, one that was summarily returned and Shepard, blissful beyond belief, stepped up to the front door, hand in hand with his quarian girlfriend, and made his way into Tali's home.

 _Their_ home now. He had six years to catch up on, but with her at his side, and no war demanding his attention, he had no doubt that the time going forward was going to be the happiest of his life.

He couldn't wait.

* * *

 _ **And there goes another one.**_

 _ **This prompt was definitely an interesting one to write, and I'll admit, I suffered from writer's block more than once simply because I wasn't sure where to take this. In the end, it worked out, and I hope the prompter is happy with the final product (if he/she ever reads this) and that the prompt lived up to their expectations. I work with what I'm given, and I'm satisfied if the prompter is satisfied.**_

 _ **As per usual, I'll be doing Chapter 6 of Equilibrium before returning to this. I'm going to experiment with how I approach the next prompt, as I've got a basic concept of how I want to handle it, and I think the prompter will like it. :)**_

 _ **Also, if you're still reading Equilibrium, PLEASE review it. I've only gotten one 1 review for the latest chapter, and its dampening my spirits more than a little. I want to know what you guys think. Are you not enjoying it? If so, how can I make it better? If you are enjoying it, what do you like about it?**_

 _ **Until next time,**_

 _ **Keelah Re'lai, troopers!**_


	13. Snapshot 12: A Face Reveal

_**This prompt is courtesy of d3m0s. I apologize for taking so long (just as I apologize to all the other prompters: you will get your turn eventually, don't worry), and I hope you enjoy this one. This prompt, much like Snapshot 8: In the Spotlight, will be experimental in nature, and will differ from the structure of my other prompts, which usually follow my normal structure of writing. This prompt will actually be told from the perspectives of select Normandy crew members as they are 'interviewed' about their recent experience with...well, the prompt says it all.**_

* * *

"Helllllllooooooooo... _everyone_! Lisssssttteeennnnn...*hic*...up! I have...*hic* some _thing_...to show you!"

The entire room, over a dozen or so people, stopped their celebrations and partying to address their drunken addressor, her speech so slurred, but clamorous, that it grabbed everybody's attention immediately. This rabble of people were having a celebration, a party really, as part of their shore leave. The Reaper War had deeply affected them all, and every single one of them had fought tooth and nail, never giving up, with some even sacrificing their lives in the process. After all the fighting they had done, they were finally afforded some time to rest and relax, and most of all, have fun. The party that Commander Shepard was throwing for them at Anderson's apartment gave them the outlet to do just that, a conduit to let out all pent up frustrations, ignore the war and dance and laugh the night away. They were all living on borrowed time: might as well make the most of it.

Some got drunk, some got loud and rambunctious, and others got creative. Mostly though, they just got drunk. And there was nobody at the party who got more pissed...than their resident quarian.

Their quarian engineer had started out quiet and reserved at first, but as was the case with alcohol, all her inhibitions and restraints became unlatched, and soon, the quiet and demure young machinist turned into a loud, giggle-ridden, confident party-goer. If she wasn't trying to imitate and compare the sounds of the _Normandy_ SR-1's engines to the SR-2, then she was getting an omni-tattoo from Jack in the bathroom. If she wasn't babbling off like a nervous schoolgirl and groping Shepard (her boyfriend) in public, then she was dancing ontop of a table, calling herself the 'Fleet's finest dancer.' Suffice to say, alcohol really didn't agree with Tali, and it was clear she was a bit of a lightweight.

The group had just laughed it away and chalked it off to the feelings of that night. Everybody was drunk in one way or another: even Javik, their usually stoic prothean, was more than a little tipsy by this point, enjoying a verbal sparring match with Zaeed Massani of all people. The night had been a blast, and nobody had really paid their inebriated quarian friend any mind. Even Shepard had let her be, finding her behaviour to be her typical cute and endearing nature, only exacerbated ten times.

But then, out of nowhere, Tali called upon the entire group to listen to her, and listen they had. Everybody had stopped what they were doing in the lounge room to listen, ceasing entire conversations, arm wrestling matches and dancing in the process. Zaeed and Javik grumbled to each other about something, Wrex and Grunt turned their heads away from their headbutting competition, Liara dropped James from the biotic field she held him in, and the list went on. Long story short, everybody's attention was now focused purely on the quarian, interested to see what she had to say. Shepard looked at her with a lopsided grin, obviously finding her deportment hilarious.

"Hiiii..." she mumbled, hiccuping again, each one seeming like a bullet to her gut as it sent her head twitching upwards, body flinching and assuming different positions against the couch she was using as support: she either leaned against it, sat on it or bent over it, each position looking more and more awkward. A few laughs were heard. She waggled a finger feverishly at them, the motion jerky and violent, "... _donnnnnnn't laugh!_ This is...very serious for...*hic* me! You have no idea...how serious...this is...except maybe...*hic* John!"

At this moment, Shepard's smile began to drop, assuming a more serious expression as he frowned at her statement. Satisfied nobody was laughing at her now, Tali balled up her fists and placed them on her hips, now looking like a mother scolding her children, "I know...all of you...are _very_ curious! Curious little... _bosh'tets_! Everybody wants to know...*hic*...what I...look like!"

Shepard began to look very concerned, and he stiffened up.

"Well..." she hiccuped again, hand shakingly reaching up towards her mask, "...today *hic* you get to see it! Congrats, you little bosh'tets!"

Her hand reached her mask, and small hisses could be heard. The quarian jerked, suddenly forgetting, in her drunken state, how to remove the latches, and quickly became frustrated as she could be heard audibly growling, trying to tear off the protective gear.

Shepard's eyes widened, and he launched from the seat, "Wait, no! Tali, _stop_!"

Then finally...the quarian laughed in victory as the last latch gave way, and the mask came off.

* * *

 _"...sooooooooooo...what did you see?"_

 _"See what?"_

 _He sighed, "Sir, this is an interview. Could you_ _ **please**_ _pay attention?"_

 _"I heard you. Why does it even matter what the quarian looks like? All fleshies look ugly."_

 _"So you're saying Miss Zorah isn't attractive?"_

 _"I'm saying I don't care. Is this interview over? I'm hungry. I think I can smell meat cooking."_

 _"Yes, that's our sausage sizzle fundraiser out the back for the refugee crisis. Now, sir, can you-wait, what are you doing!? No sir, that fundraiser is for employees onl-! SIR!"_

 _A few minutes pass, followed by a sigh._

 _"Had to call security on him. He wasn't very cooperative. Send in the next one."_

* * *

 _"So, what did you see?"_

 _"In terms of...what, exactly?_

 _"Miss Lawson, the crew of your ship has beared witness to a quarian's face. This is a rare opportunity. Extranet reports and images of quarian faces from three hundred years ago are very scarce nowadays, largely because of Migrant Fleet censorship and removal of these images to facilitate their privacy. Now you've informed our studio that you and your crew bore witness to one...so, what did you see?"_

 _She took a moment to answer, reaching up and placing a stray lock of her hair behind one ear, tucking it in as she crossed her legs, hands resting in her lap, "Well, I think she looked fairly normal. Very asari like, with some human attributes. She had some wrinkles, but I hear she's getting treatment for that. She has green eyes, bluish hair, purple ski-"_

 _A nervous laugh, "Sorry to cut you off there Miss Lawson, but we weren't looking for specifics. Mostly, at least for those in our audience looking to court some quarians themselves, we were looking more for a...reassurance. Our viewers want to know if their lovers look attractive or not."_

 _"Then your viewers are morons, and nothing I say will really change that."_

 _"Um...excuse me?"_

 _"I've been on many dating sites myself. Too many men interested in facial appearances and my body. I told them what I'm going to tell you: looks don't matter so long as your heart is in the right place. Of course, I told them something far more colorful, but consider what I told you the...child friendly translation."_

 _"Miss Lawson, you're not being very helpful. All we want is-"_

 _"For me to tell your viewers what they want to hear. I'm not in the business of delusion. Now, is there anything else your viewers would like to know about Tali'Zorah?"_

 _"I...uh, no. No, no there isn't."_

 _"Good."_

 _Another minute passes, and the interviewer sighs again._

 _"At least we got more out of her than the last one...next!"_

* * *

 _"Welcome, Mr...I'm sorry, sir, I'm not exactly sure how to address you."_

 _"Javik."_

 _"Sorry?"_

 _"Javik. My name is...Javik," the weird looking alien replied, sounding almost condescending, "Do not look so confused, human. I am the last prothean. The Avatar of Vengeance. I will be the last voice of the protheans, sending the Reapers to their grave."_

 _"Riiggghhhtttt..."_

 _"Why am I here? What is the purpose of this...'interview'?"_

 _"Well, Mr. Javik, our viewers on the network have been informed that Tali'Zorah, the quarian on your crew, has recently shown her face. We just wanted the inside scoop. Tell us, what does she look like?"_

 _"What does it matter? Why are you people so obsessed with the mystery of a quarian's face? You should be focusing on the Reapers. Crushing them is all that matters."_

 _He sighed, wiping his forehead, "Mr. Javik, our viewers just want to know. Could you...could you please answer the question?"_

 _"Very well," Javik said, and the interviewer tensed up in anticipation, "She is attractive by prothean standards."_

 _Silence fell, then he cleared his throat, "Could you...be a little more specific?"_

 _"No."_

 _"Um...why?"_

 _"Because I wasn't looking at the time. Why do you find this hard to grasp, human?"_

 _"Wait...you weren't even_ _ **looking**_ _? Then how do you know what she looks like?"_

 _"Because I have seen quarians during my cycle."_

 _"Right," he licked his lips, reading over his pre-prepared questions, before throwing all planning out the window as he eyed the prothean, "So do you actually have anything to offer us?"_

 _"No."_

 _He groaned inwardly, "Then why are you here?"_

 _"I was told there was an interview. The Commander insisted I go. So I went. He is my commanding officer, and I follow his orders. He is the one man with the strength capable of defeating the Reapers."_

 _"We're not talking about the-"_

 _"Then this interview is a waste of time. I have been misled as to the purpose of this."_

 _"No you haven't, we made perfectly c-"_

 _"Enough, primitive. I have duties to return to."_

 _The last prothean then just...left._

 _He inwardly cursed their luck. "That's three ruined interviews...fuck! Wait...did you catch that? Ooohhh...good. Just...get the next one in, and hope to God they're more compliant."_

* * *

 _"Welcome to the show Mr. Moreau, glad to have you here."_

 _"Well, didn't really have a choice. You guys kept harassing me. Just figured I might as well do it and get it over with."_

 _"And for that, we are forever grateful, Mr. Moreau. You are the Normandy's famed pilot, yes? Tales of your piloting skills have made headlines throughout the galaxy. The Moreau Dive was a jaw-dropping maneveur...and to take out three Reaper destroyers in a single thanix shot? Many are calling you the best pilot in the galaxy."_

 _"Thought that was a no brainer," the pilot sarcastically retorted, leaning back lazily, "But please, you didn't bring me here to shower me in praise! And this is definitely not leading up to you inviting me to join the Terran starship racing team! Come on, what's the deal? Wait, I think I might know...might be just on the tip of my tongue..."_

 _"Mr. Moreau, please save us the coyness. You know why you're here."_

 _"Maybe I don't...maybe I'm a...just clueless," he clicked his fingers, a slight grin on the edge of her lips as he pointed at her in feigned realization, "Yeah, completely clueless. I'm a bit of a forgetful person sometimes. EDI likes to give me these three second alerts to remind me to wipe my ass whenever I-"_

 _"Fight Lieutenant! Please, keep this PG! There are children watching this!"_

 _"Oh," the pilot laughed awkwardly, shaking his head, "Right. Well, that's fine. That's good! I love to make little children laugh! Just ask the commander, he'll tell you."_

 _"Mr. Moreau, the question please."_

 _"But you haven't asked a question!"_

 _"Its the same one I've asked the last three people!"_

 _"Why didn't they answer it then?"_

 _"Because they kept dodging the question!"_

 _The pilot adopted a frown, and he was about to sigh in irritation when Joker continued, "Seems pretty personal then. I don't like personal questions. Wait...is this about my Vrolik's syndrome? I'll have you know, its getting better! My hip doesn't hurt as much when I stand-"_

 _"Tali'Zorah, Mr. Moreau."_

 _"What about her? Oh, right. No, no, nothing like that. My hips can't carry a suit like that. No, my hips are all bulky and-"_

 _"Not your hips! Her face! Tell us about her face!"_

 _The pilot sat there for a few seconds, blinking, before finally straightening up, looking like he was finally taking him seriously, "You want to know about Tali's face? Why didn't you just say so?"_

 _"That aside," he interrupted, trying to halt the pilot's attempts at evasion as he focused entirely on his question, clearing his throat for emphasis, "What. Did. She. Look. Like? Was any part of that question unclear?"_

 _"Nope. Made perfect sense."_

 _"So? What_ _ **does**_ _she look like?"_

 _"How should I know? She never took it off!"_

 _The reporter sat there for a few moments, eyes narrowing into a glare as he appraised the seemingly innocent pilot. His left eye twitched, and fingers rapped on his lap._

 _"Get out."_

 _"Sure. Thanks for the interview! Oh, and while you can, please let the Terran racing team know that I wish I-"_

 _"Get out! Just leave!"_

 _The pilot hobbled out without another word, groaning as he held his head in his hands, before checking the pilot off his list. Four people so far had evaded his attempts at asking the question. He could only hope the next one would actually cooperate._

 _Seeing who the next person was, his hopes were lifted. Finally, somebody who looks reasonable._

* * *

 _He straightened his shirt, and tried his best to plaster a pleasant smile on his face as he reached out to shake her hand, "Justicar Samara, welcome to our show. We realize you must be very busy, so we'll try and keep this interview as brief as possible."_

 _"To which I am thankful. There is much evil in this galaxy, and many innocents are caught in the middle of it. I would like to help as much as I can."_

 _"Understandable," motioning for her to sit down, he made sure she had done so before taking a seat himself, owing the asari the respect she was due. Once seated, he licked his lips and began the interview straight away, "Now, I'm sure you are aware of what question this interview centers around? I must ask, because our last interviewee failed to grasp exactly what we were talking about."_

 _"I apologize, but I am not aware. I do not pay much attention to the extranet, so forgive my ignorance."_

 _"Of course. We've heard from a third-party source who wishes to remain anonymous, that the Normandy crew got a front row seat to the unveiling of one Tali'Zorah's face. Quarian faces are quite the mystery, and one that has sparked debate for over three hundred years. There are those in our audience looking to court some presumably, and would be curious to know what they look like."_

 _"I imagine they would. The quarians are a curious species, and as such, have inspired much curiosity about them."_

 _"Very eloquently put," he replied, mostly out of placation just so he could get what he wanted, and continued, "So the obvious question is: what does she look like?"_

 _Samara frowned at that, the barest sign of movement that came from her still, stoic form, "Are you asking for me to provide information to that extent?"_

 _He waved a hand in a motion of enablement, "Of course. We're very curious!"_

 _"Then I'm afraid I must disappoint you. I cannot disclose information of that nature."_

 _His face dropped visibly, "What...why? M-may I ask why?"_

 _"Its simple. My code forbids me from dishonorable conduct, and what you have asked of me is morally unethical. I count Tali'Zorah among those that I consider friends, of which I have few. It would be dishonorable and disreputable of me to violate Tali'Zorah's privacy in such a way, as well as a violation of the Justicar's code. You are also asking me to help you take advantage of Tali'Zorah's drunken solecism so that you may entertain your viewers at her expense. I cannot, and will not, help you with that. It is wrong."_

 _"But-" he stuttered, before finally waving his hands in the air in appointed defeat, "-why even bother coming here?"_

 _"I believed you wanted a fair interview about me. I did not know about the subject matter. And as such, I must leave now. Good day to you."_

 _Before he could say anything else, the justicar had gotten up and left. He looked incredulously to the camera man, and he could imagine the look of sheer befuddlement on his face as the camera zoomed right up to it._

* * *

 _He combed his hair back, making sure it looked prim and proper before he coughed to clear his throat, flicking through his datapad to reach the page he wanted. He was tired, exhausted and fed up. The last five interviews had been a disaster, and his boss was beginning to breathe down his neck looking for a good interview to do the runs. Viewership was dropping, and negative reviews were plaguing their site. They needed a good interview...and fast._

 _Looking to the man infront of him, slouched in his seat and peering at him with two eyes, one of them a prosthetic, milky white orb, he gulped and began, "Mr. Massani, so good of you to come. I'll save us time by cutting straight to the chase: what does Tali'Zorah look like? Our viewers are begging to know."_

 _Zaeed chuckled, before leaning forward, the reporter subconsciously leaning forward with him, "You really want to know?"_

 _"Yes!" he practically shouted._

 _"Well..." he began, "She...was fucking hideous. Teeth like a chainsaw, face looking like a mole rat that had crawled out of a krogan's...buttocks," he self-corrected once he saw the look on the reporter's face, "...nose so misshapen she could have passed for a goddam witch, and more wrinkles than you can count tumors in my sternum."_

 _"Oh..." he sat back, unable to help sounding disappointed, "...that's it? She's just ugly?"_

 _"Wait..." Zaeed halted, holding up a finger, as if in thought. After a minute ticked by, he clicked his fingers shaking his hand, "No, got that one wrong. She actually...looked like Wrex. Weirdest thing, eh? Krogan trapped in an enviro-suit, I'll tell you."_

 _"Oh, so you misrememb-"_

 _"Damn it, no, that wasn't it either!" he shouted, slapping his thigh violently, "Let me think...shit, that's it! She was an_ _ **asari**_ _hiding under that suit!"_

 _It dawned on him pretty quick where this was going. His eyes drilled holes into the mercenary's skull, "You don't actually know, do you?"_

 _"I was fucking drunk! What the hell do you expect!?"_

 _"You didn't actually see her face, did you?"_

 _"It was all a bit blurry...she might have had a lizard tongue. Or maybe that was just the alcohol."_

 _"Do you actually...know anything...about Tali'Zorah's facial appearance?"_

 _After a long period of silence, with the merc's face scrunched up in an expression that looked an awful lot like one that a person would make when going for a number 2 on the toilet, the merc finally gave up, "Nope, can't help you. I was balls-to-the-walls pissed, kid. I'm sure you'll find someone who bloody remembers."_

 _"Yes, like the five other people I interviewed..." he waved a dismissive hand, groaning as his head leaned all the way back, "...you may leave. This interview is over."_

 _"Good. I need to shit."_

* * *

As he sat in his office trying to contemplate what a fuck up his last six interviews had been, his nostrils picked up the pungent smell of discharged ozone, followed by a crackle of electricity behind him. Before he could turn around, a young, feminine voice sounded over his shoulder, "Don't look so glum, champ! Don't give up! Get right down to the basics!"

Startled, he shot up out of the chair and whirled around, but found noone there. Confused, wondering if he might have heard things, he moved to sit back down, only for the voice to be heard again, this time from the front of the room.

"I'm not one to offer advice, but this interview script of yours could do with some work. Maybe...spruce it up a bit? Add some flair? What a boring question! 'What does Tali'Zorah look like'? Come on, you can do better!"

Turning back, he found the uncloaked form of a onyx-cloaked woman, hood propped over her head and shrouding her features, sitting ontop of his second desk, reading over his datapad. His eyes widened as he recognized her, finger pointing towards her with personal revelation, "You're Kasumi Goto!"

A twinkle underneath her hood. A grin. "The one and only, but don't go spreading that around. I'm a master thief, but not the most famous."

Working his way around his main desk, he pointed at her accusingly, "How...how did you get into this room? You can't be in here!"

"Did you just say both of those things to a master thief?" Kasumi giggled, hands playing around with numerous objects on his desk.

 _Well...now might be my best chance!_ "Kasumi Goto, now that you're here, would you like to have an interview with-"

"-with you? Sure!" she replied excitedly, leaping off the desk, "I can tell you all about my many heists, the people I've stolen from, my ex-boyfriend, my-"

He shook his head, "No no no, I mean about Tali'Zorah. Her face."

Now comprehending what he meant, she simply laughed, waving a dismissive hand as she moved back towards his other desk, "I'm afraid I can't help you there. A girl's got to have secrets, and little fishbowl won't want you poking around her private life!"

"Fishbowl?"

Ignoring his question as to the suspect nickname, she picked up his datapad again, running through the contents, "This interview script is very dry, you should know that. Is one question really all you have? I think I'd be doing you a favor if I just-" she stood back up, waving the pad in the air, "-took this off your hands."

His eyes widened, "What!? You can't do-"

With a shimmer, a crackle and a sneeze-inducing intake of ozone, the petite thief was gone, like a wisp of smoke, his door shooting open and closed, "Keep up the work, champ!"

" _Arrgghhhh!_ " he roared, shooting back out the door. When he found nobody in the vicinity, he turned to the two security guards looking at him curiously, "Kasumi Goto just stole my interview script! Find her! _Find HER!_ "

* * *

 _He was fed up and tired. Six failed interviews, and now a potential interviewee had disappeared, and had stolen his datapad in the process. Granted, it hadn't taken him long to salvage out a spare company datapad, and rewrite his script, but the fact he had to do so at all had made him livid. Each person he had interviewed had either dodged his question or provided a false answer, making him think they were actively yanking his chain._

 _His boss was getting annoyed. He needed a turn around. A game changer. And he was hoping this next respondent would not only be more reciprocal, but would actually answer the damn question._

 _"Commander Shepard...so good to have you with us. It was very difficult to get you here on the show, but now that you are here, we can get down to business."_

 _"I'm a busy man."_

 _"That...you...are..." he gritted his teeth, knowing just how difficult it had been to get Shepard on the show. Forty-eight emails later, and they had finally achieved it. Harassment went a long way in this business, "I could ply you for information on your numerous exploits while you're here if I wanted, but let's get down to the real reason you are here. Tali'Zorah. Her face. Please, we must know. Our viewers are desperate. Curiosity...the usual."_

 _"I don't know if Tali would be comfortable with that..." Shepard stated, although he seemed to do so with a twitching expression. If the journalist were paranoid, which he was, he could have sworn the man was biting back from laughing._

 _"Please sir, we've heard it all before. But surely you must know the public has a right to know-"_

 _"Know what? What my girlfriend's face looks like?"_

 _"You know its more than that, sir. We want to know what quarian's faces look like."_

 _"I'd recommend to your viewers a thorough extranet search. I'm sure rule 34 has a picture or two."_

 _"Commander!" he exclaimed, wide eyed, "There are children who watch this show!"_

 _"I jest, of course," he explained, holding up his hands defensively. Once he lowered them, he found himself barely holding back a sigh as he saw the laugh that was just barely remaining caged behind the spectre's lips, "My point still stands, though."_

 _"The extranet is unreliable, as you well know. Too many artist's impressions, not enough empirical evidence," he retorted._

 _"That's a pity. But I'm still not telling."_

 _"Why?" he gushed as his annoyance reached its apex, all his carefully held self-restraint beginning to falter as the weight of six failed interviews and this man's continued insurrection got to him, "Why won't you answer? Why won't your comrades answer? Its a very simple question!"_

 _"Because I have a moral code, that's why. And have you seen Tali? She's got a shotgun, can hack through the best supercomputer and is mighty feisty. I wouldn't want to piss her off, and you can quote me on that. Quarians and shotguns...explosive combination."_

 _"Its just a face!"_

 _"Then go get a quarian girlfriend, or boyfriend, or whatever. Don't care. Just don't drag Tali into this to satiate your curiosity."_

 _"Right, I guess we're done here!"_

 _"Good, I'm hungry and I've got a date. Hope I helped."_

 _"You were useless."_

 _"Glad to be of service."_

* * *

 _He wanted to scream._

"This better be fucking good! I'm literally on the verge of killing your cat right about now!"

"Um...okay, not sure what my cat did to you, but whatever," the woman replied, bewildered by the odd threat thown her way, "We've got her! The woman herself! Tali'Zorah!"

"Wait...what?"

"She's willing to do an interview! Well, we basically ambushed her on the street, but she's not protesting!"

"You didn't abduct her, did you?"

"No, but she's waiting outside! Quickly, before she changes her mind!"

He was practically jumping for joy, "I'll be right there!"

 _Please don't fuck up. Please don't fuck up. Please don't fuck up. Please don't fuck up!_

* * *

 _"Hi! Tali'Zorah? I'm Gregory Hillfield, FCC News!"_

 _"Oh, um, I'm sorry, I think you-"_

 _"So...! What does your face look like?"_

 _"-you've got-what?"_

 _"Please don't be coy! I've gotten this shit from your other friends and I don't have the patience to deal with it from you!"_

 _"Sir, there's been a mistake! I think-"_

 _"Tell us what your face looks like! We're dying to know!"_

 _"Look, I don't know how you mixed this up, but I'm not Tali'Zorah. I'm Lia'Vael."_

 _He froze, eye twitching as he stared blankly at the quarian. Slowly, but surely, he turned towards his female co-worker, staring at her murderously._

 _"I. Thought. You. Said. She-"_

 _"Well, how was I supposed to know! All quarians look the same!"_

 _Lia didn't take kindly to that, pointing angrily at the woman, "That's not_ _ **true!**_ _My suit isn't even the same_ _ **color**_ _! You humans are all racist!" She then took off down the street, storming away until she was out of view._

 _AAARRRRGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-_

* * *

"This is...beyond immature, commander."

"I don't know, I think this fucker's expression is priceless. He looks like he's just Grunt's butthole."

"How...oddly specific, Jack."

Shepard couldn't help but continue to grin, stiffling laughter, "I can't believe he mistook another quarian for Tali. I'd normally be angry at the blatant racism shown by his female friend there, but holy shit, its too funny to take seriously."

"I'm glad we're making so much out of this," Tali complained, arms crossed as she stood beside him. He turned to her, grin still wide.

"Well, I saw an opportunity for a good laugh," he shrugged innocently, pointing towards the screen as it cut back to the main news studio, the news anchor moving onto other news. Garrus switched off the viewscreen with a flick of his omni-tool, their fun obviously now coming to an end, "We all hate journalists, after all."

"I think it was brilliant," Garrus piped up, waving his hand with pride, "Having Liara send an anonymous tip about Tali showing her face to us and then deliberately misleading them. Just sucks I never got to have a turn for an interview. I had this entire story about Tali secretly being a geth spy all cooked up and ready to go. Guess fanfiction will have to suffice."

"The galaxy is entirely grateful you never got to," Tali quipped dryly. With a sigh, the quarian finally let out a giggle, shaking her head, "I'll admit...its pretty funny. I'm just glad Shepard stopped me before I actually showed my face to you guys. I'd be living down the embarassment for years."

Silence fell over the room. All eyes turned to Shepard, as if waiting for him to say something. He looked away from Tali guiltily. The quarian took notice fairly quickly, and turned to Shepard with a glare, her scowl piercing through the back of his head with enough intensity to melt a sun, "John..."

"Well..." he rubbed the back of his neck, slowly working his way away from her as he noticed Tali's fists clenching and her body tensing up, "...I _may_ have failed to reach you in time before...well...before everybody saw your face."

"You told me you reached me in-"

"Yeah, I sorta lied. You were drunk and when you woke up you had forgotten! I didn't want to embarass you by saying-"

"You... _BOSH'TET!_ "

Eyes widening and body springing up like a brute had just smashed into the room, Shepard bolted for the stairs, quick as lightning. Moments later, a glass soared through the air and exploded on the wall just behind him, the quarian roaring in fury. He ran like his life depending on it, the vehement Tali rushing up after him, her longer and more powerful quarian legs easily allowing her to catch up to him. They both disappeared around the corner.

"Well, he's fucked," Zaeed joked.

"He just better hope she doesn't have a shotgun nearby," Wrex chuckled.

A shout was heard upstairs, followed by a loud bang.

" _ **COME HERE!**_ " was Tali's booming shriek.

The room erupted into laughter, with Jack making one final comment as an epilogue to their antics for the evening, her comment coming after yet another thud could be heard.

"Shit, Tali's got one hell of a throwing arm."

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_

 _ **And there you have it. Like I said, this prompt was very much an experiment on my part, and I hope you guys liked it. I probably won't be doing anything along these lines for future prompts so it remains fairly unique. Hope its what you wanted d3m0s!**_

 _ **Chapter 7 of Equilibrium will be up next, then I'll give Prompt 13 a kick.**_

 _ **Keelah Se'lai, troopers!**_


	14. Snapshot 13: Lost in Translation

_**I've been REALLY looking forward to writing this prompt, so cheers go to Silhouette55 for this one. Like Snapshot 12, this is intended as a humorous prompt, so I hope you guys find it funny. I tried thinking of a more creative title, but 'Lost in Translation' was just far too applicable. So, as Silhouette55 wanted...here it is! Time to see Tali and Shepard completely butcher each other's languages. XD**_

* * *

One might ask, looking back on all the decisions he's made, why he had made such decisions in the first place. What compelled him to join the marines when he did? What thoughts were running through his head when he took control of that machine gun nest and decided to hold off against an army of ten thousand angry slavers on Elysium? At some point though, questions stop getting asked, but more and more questionable decisions are made that are simply too numerous to count, too spontaneous to consider. However, there was one decision he had made, far more recently, that was a highlight. That somewhat stood out from the rest, depending how you looked at it.

Was it a strange decision? From a certain angle, one could definitely argue that. Was it the wrong decision? This early on, one couldn't tell, but he was sure it wasn't. He was usually pretty confident regarding the significance of his choices. He was a good judge of character, and he very rarely missed the ball. From the moment he met someone, he could, usually, tell exactly whether or not he liked them. And everything in his head was telling him: right choice. You made the right choice. The best.

That choice was Tali'Zorah vas Normandy. More specifically, he was in a relationship with her. A quarian. A non-human. An extraterrestrial, by all 20th and 21st century accounts.

So why exactly, aside from her being a three-fingered, three-toed, backward-legged, khelish-speaking, shotgun-toting alien, was this an odd choice? Well, because her species was trapped in enviro suits. These suits kept them alive, because after three hundred years of exile from their homeworld on a fleet of ships with sterile clean environments, their immune systems had atrophied to the point of nearly being non-existent, making their bodies extremely vulnerable to all forms of bacteria. As such, quarians were prone to sickness outside of said suits unless in an environment that was absolutely clean. As one would assume, and they'd assume correctly, this made relations of the sexual nature between quarians very dangerous. And interspecies relationships...even more so.

So, with the knowledge that sex between a quarian and a human could result in her death and/or severe crippling sickness, why would one take the risk? Why waste time with someone like that when he could be with an asari or another of his species, people he can touch and kiss and make love to without any problem whatsoever? Why her? Why go to all the effort?

Well, it was simple. He was in love. He had fallen for his ship's engineer, and as far as he was concerned, that ended all argument. That's all that mattered. She was perfect for him, and that's all he cared about in the end: everything else came as a close second. And regardless of these supposed hindrances, the two had consummated their love together just before jumping into a potential suicide mission. And when it was all over, said quarian, Tali, had walked it off with a sniffle, clogged sinuses and a sincere 'totally worth it' asseveration.

In other words, damn the risks. You only lived once. Well...in Shepard's case that wasn't strictly speaking true, but...semantics.

It had been a week since the end of their suicide mission to knock out the Collector Base and dealt yet another crippling blow to Reaper war preparations. Not a single squadmate had been lost, the entire crew had been saved, and every single Collector was blown to kingdom come. Shepard had told the Illusive Man where he could stick it, and in no time flat, their affiliation with Cerberus was at an end. The crew as in high spirits, even with the _Normandy_ practically having to limp into an Illium port, and who could blame them: nothing could topple the excitement of walking into what they were told would be a suicide mission, only to come out alive and kicking. Everybody had done their best. Shepard had turned an unlikely brotherhood of men and women, ex-soldiers and mercenaries, a convict and a justicar, a tank born and a vigilante...he had taken them and transformed them into the most lethal fighting unit in the galaxy, and they had emerged from the lion's den victorious.

They felt invincible. Understandable.

Using a sizable portion of funds that EDI had 'borrowed' from Cerberus upon their departure from the organization, the crew was enjoying quite a bit of R'n'R while the _Normandy_ was under going repairs. While the crew did whatever, Shepard and Tali were content to go about their duties: Shepard trying to figure out what the hell to do next (go back to the Alliance or continue fighting the Reapers freelance), while Tali prepared engineering for the repair crews. He couldn't help a smile at the idea of the quarian bossing around busy salarian technicians, yelling at them whenever they produced the wrong coupling or being hit with a wrench for talking back to her. Tali had certainly gotten more feisty since the Saren days. Perhaps her time on the SR-1 and being constantly neck-deep in danger had built up her confidence somewhat. He couldn't say he had a problem with it. It is why he had officially bestowed upon her the title of chief engineer. She had fit into it quite well, and Gabby liked her work ethic. Ken had a few complaints, but that's probably because he spent too much time 'appreciating' Tali's posterior. Which would explain why Ken's shift yesterday had been extended by four hours, and had him cleaning out the mainteance shaft.

Still...while everybody else was out enjoying themselves, Shepard and Tali, as per usual, were putting work ahead of play, duties above themselves. A virtue both of them shared.

Of course, Miranda wasn't having any of that. The woman had changed over the 'short' time Shepard had known her, and he liked to think he had a part in it. She had gone from a cold, indifferent ice queen to softening up and becoming a generally likable person. She still wasn't all smiles and cracking jokes, and he didn't expect her to be, but she was far more open with the crew now. He had seen her smile, which was enough to tell him there was a human being underneath their veneer of professionalism she kept up. And now that Shepard had helped her, she was going out of her way to help him.

From the moment she had the chance, Miranda was practically kicking Shepard and Tali off the ship. Shepard wasn't sure Miranda or any of the crew knew they were together yet, but he had to figure word was getting around after the few nights Tali had spent sleeping with him in his cabin. He knew for certain Garrus knew, even if he hadn't seem the damn bird anywherre: nothing got by that detective's intuition. But he knew Tali would like to keep their relationship under wraps for a bit longer, and he was going to honor that wish as best as possible...however futile it might seem.

Whatever the case, Shepard and Tali, basically exiled from the _Normandy_ for now, had chosen to rent an apartment to stay in for their duration on Illium and decided to relax, just as Miranda had basically ordered them to do.

Shepard had to admit he was pretty stumped, and Tali wasn't exactly a well of ideas. Neither of them were really experienced in the relationship business, and the two hadn't really dated at all before their first night together. Shepard, deciding that they might as well use the time they've got free wisely, and took Tali out on several dates, either to have lunch, see a movie or visit a gun/tech store. The two were having a lot of fun, and they even caught up with the other crew members to hang out when they had the chance. Tali, of course, couldn't help but ask for updates on the _Normandy_ 's repair status, to which the response was largely grounded down to 'its doing fine, now stop asking.' He could imagine Tali was thinking of all the things that could go wrong while she was gone, an idea that made him laugh on more than one occasion.

To say their relationship was interesting was a colossal understatement of the situation. All his life, Shepard's girlfriends had been restricted purely to the human variety. Despite spending most of his life on starships, he had surprisingly come across very few aliens, other than the odd asari, and even then, he never knew them long enough to get into a relationship, and he despised brothels, so he never visited those. So when he said he was new to the whole relationship thing...he was half right. He'd only had about three girlfriends in his past, and none of those really worked out, either due to the simple fact he was a spacer, and postings were never consistent enough to maintain a serious relationship, or because they weren't compatible. Tali was the first girl he had ever had a good feeling about...the only one he actually felt drawn to. And the fact that she was an alien never really served as a deterrent. If anything, it just made it all the more fascinating.

Being with Tali was a learning experience. Sure, as friends, they had talked about her people in an objective way, debating about the rights and wrongs of their culture, how their system of government worked, how their military was structured...this and that. But now that they were actually a couple, the _informare_ was greatly expanded. As they were both alien to each other, in every way culturally, linguistically and politically, each had their own unique way of contributing to the other's knowledge web. Whether it be Tali talking about quarian views on spiritualism and ancestry, or Shepard trying his best to explain the political landscape of early 20th century Earth, neither were left bored or dried up on the information front.

Talking was essentially their favourite activity at this point. Every single one of their dates, whether it be lunch or seeing a movie, they always ended up talking. During movies they'd simply sit there and whisper to each other, asking seemingly random questions or Tali giggling away as Shepard lampooned whatever film they were watching. During dates they'd exchange back and forth banter constantly, Shepard quickly making note of just how much more confident Tali got with each passing day of their relationship. She had been nervous, unsure and constantly infested with self-doubt before and at the start of their relationship, asking questions such as 'why me?' nearly constantly. But as the days went on, and it finally sunk in that she wasn't the product of some scheme of stress relief that Shepard had conjured up, a way to allow two people to vent their frustrations before a potentially suicidal mission...that he was completely serious about being with her for the long haul, she grew into it more naturally. While she still babbled quite a bit when nervous (a trait he'd never stop finding cute), those times were becoming less and less common, and it warmed him to see it. She was finally realizing what she meant to him, and as a result, her feelings for him only grew more concrete.

He'd probably consider himself the luckiest guy in the galaxy, but that'd be cheesy if he said it out loud. He'd dare anyone to change his mind though.

The entire experience was about as alien to him as Tali was. Every single issue regarding interspecies relationships that the two encountered were ones that they overcame with little to no issue. Taking medication to avoid cramping and cross fluid-induced illness. Taking additional medication to ensure Tali could leave her suit safely. Using the time they had together wisely when she couldn't leave her suit. Learning about their respective cultures through actions that ranged from the simple interpretation of how one ate their food, all the way to the complex nature surrounding how their translation programs worked, and allowed the two to communicate seemlessly without issue.

And there it was, the one thing that Shepard latched onto with special interest: translation.

When people looked at the galactic civilization that was the Milky Way races, one could say they saw unity. Dozens of alien races, ranging from the quadruped to the humanoid, reptilian and amphibian to the mammalian, militaristic to the pacifistic, benevolent to the malevolent, welcoming to the spurning...each race's attitude was different, and none of them were one and the same...despite being so unified. One might think that their unity was a product of outreach...a dogmatic creed of politely and cordially approaching every new member with open arms and a cautious streak. But in the end, none of that was the case. The real unifier was the universal translator. For, without it, none of them would know what the hell the other one was saying. It virtually solved all problems regarding linguistical cognizance overnight with its introduction. Shepard really had to thank the man who designed it, because he very much doubted he'd know Tali this well without it. Or any of his alien crew, for that matter.

But he digressed. Shepard had heard Tali slip the odd khelish word that, for whatever reason, failed to translate properly. And he knew there was probably some human words he had used in her presence that didn't translate well either. This point of contention was one that fascinated him, and as a result, he felt compelled to investigate it further.

Of course, Shepard approached the topic with the subtlety of a stealth ops unit armed with explosives. One afternoon, after returning from a day on the town, Shepard had sprung the question, "Tali...have you ever considered turning off your translator?"

Understandably, the quarian was a bit nonplussed by the question itself. Tali had been in the process of sitting down on the edge of the bed, looking through the messages on her omni-tool for her long awaited update on the _Normandy's_ current status (well, he didn't know that for certain, but why else would she be constantly checking for?) when the enquiry was presented to her. She stopped what she was doing, middle finger of her left hand stalling and freezing mid air, as if caught in some stasis field, head craning towards him, cocked in confusion, blinking bewilderedly.

Finally, she composed herself enough to reply to the sudden and kooky question, "Do I...turn my translator off?"

"Yeah," he shrugged, walking over and plopping himself down next to her, his arm brushing against hers as he turned his full attention towards her. When he saw the expression of mystification had remained, her head still cocked and looking at him, waiting for some kind of palliating explanation, he decided to elaborate on what he meant, "I was just wondering if you ever got curious what the crew sounds like without a translator. You haven't been curious about how...I sound, perhaps?"

She fixed him with a studious stare, her analytical mind trying to compress what he was saying into something she understood. While it was clear the intention of his question and its reasoning were now clear, she still found herself taken unaware by the question itself, the aleatory query not one the two had discussed previously, despite their many cross-cultural, interpersonal trivia, "Well...maybe. I mean, not really...keelah, what brought _this_ up?"

Another shrug. It was quickly becoming his number one choice answer, as even he was struggling to come up with a reason for the question outside of linguistical anthropological curiosity. Still, he mustered a response regardless, figuring there was no real reason to hide his motives. He lay back on the bed, hands crossed behind his head and resting on them as he lay flat on the soft mattress beneath them, Tali's eyes trailing his even as he plonked down, "We've been talking about our cultures so much that it seemed like a given. I've heard you drop the occasional khelish word that didn't translate properly, and wondered what they meant. And I have no doubt I've dropped a few english words that didn't translate properly, yes?"

"More than a few times," she mutually shared.

"Exactly," he stated a matter-of-factly, "I guess that, after all those talks we've had about each other's cultures, that the last step would be our languages. Let's face it, without that translator, we wouldn't even be together."

"True," Tali admitted, "The whole galaxy has probably taken it for granted."

He nodded sagely, "So I've been wondering this whole time...how you would sound without my translator on. What your natural language sounds like. And I've also wondered if you were thinking the same."

"Well..." Tali began, rubbing her shoulder lightly as she tried to formulate an answer. In retrospect, it really wasn't that difficult a question, but the subject material was one that she had admittedly not given much thought towards, "...I never really thought about it. I was so wrapped up in the idea that we were actually together that I didn't really think about how this 'english' of yours would sound. But now that I think about it..."

He grinned, springing to sit up as he noticed the curiosity in her tone, watching as she, rather adorably, tried to copy the human mannerism of stroking her chin in thought, her three fingers rubbing against the bottom of her vocalizer making the display rather funny, but endearing, "Its an interesting thought, eh?"

"I'll admit," she began, finally lowering her arm as she landed both hands on her lap, "Its definitely intriguing."

Suddenly, a thought popped into his head, and his grin only widened, the commander turning fully towards his quarian partner, "What if...we gave it a try? Turn off our translators for a little bit?"

Her head snapped to look at him, her look meek, but she didn't make any immediate objection to the suggestion. In fact, she seemed to be onboard with the idea, the twin orbs behind her mask narrowing in thoughtful contemplation. Finally, she looked up at him, shrugging carelessly as a smile graced her lips, eyes widening gradually, "Sure...why not?"

Clapping his hands on his lap, licking his lips, he turned to her and contemplated how best to approach this. After about a minute, he nodded again, bringing up his omni-tool, "Guess I'll go first...here we go." After finding the universal translator buried under numerous subprograms and applications, he finally found the app itself and pressed the command to halt the process. There was a noticeable click, but other than that, no other indication from the wrist-worn device that anything had changed, even as he closed his omni-tool and turned back to Tali.

At least until she spoke.

" _Neiilm xe nah rara'set meh deh_?" Tali asked. He blinked several times until he realized his translator was now offline, and what he was hearing was his girlfriend's unfiltered, untranslated voice for the first time. He had expected her actual voice to change, but it didn't: only the words changed. He had absolutely no clue what she had said, which only caused him to become more curious. He had heard bits and pieces of khelish before, but never in complete sentences, and never quite like this.

" _Geja meki geh_?" she asked, this time sounding a little more frustrated. He could only grin, offering a reply of his own.

"Works great," he stated, "Can't understand a word you're saying."

While he couldn't understand anything she was saying, she could understand him. The quarian gave a quick nod, before bringing up her own omni-tool to deactivate hers. He frantically held up a hand to halt her, and thankfully, she noticed before she was able to deactivate hers. She looked up at him quizically, confused as to why he would suddenly want to stop her.

 _No point to this if we_ _ **both**_ _can't understand each other. That'd just be chaos. Have to take this slow._

He made sure to relay this fact to Tali, and the quarian gave another nod of understanding. He quickly disengaged his own, turning back to her with a wide grin, "Well...that was certainly a whole different experience."

"What did I sound like?" Tali queried, omni-tool poised and awaiting her own turn. She sounded anxious, almost as if expecting a negative response to her unfiltered voice.

He was quick to assuage her doubts, holding up a hand defensively, "Don't worry, you didn't sound any different than usual...aside from a bunch of words I don't recognize leaving your mouth. You...sounded pretty much exactly like I expected."

She seemed reassured by this, giving a quick nod, "That's...good. Very good. Glad to hear it."

He frowned, cocking his head at her, "What...did you expect? That I'd somehow find your voice less appealing without a translator?"

"Maybe."

He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he reached forward and wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her against his side and rubbing her hip soothingly, "Well, don't worry. I've never had a problem with your voice before and, translator or no translator, that hasn't changed. It _won't_ change."

He was initially met with silence, but before he could speak again, the quarian simply pulled away from him gently, nodding, "I know..." she then looked up at him, a grin clearly hiding underneath her visor, "...just wanted to hear you get all sappy again."

He chuckled, "Ohhhhhh, you're a piece of work, Tali'Zorah." _But I love you all the same._

She just giggled lightly under her breath, shaking her head, "Much obliged."

Once the two of them finished laughing for a minute or two, they were finally composed enough to continue with their little social experiment, Shepard clearing his throat as he turned back to her, cracking his neck in the process as a sort of pseudo-preparation for what was to come, "Now...its your turn. This time...I'm going to see if I can teach you a few human words, yeah?"

She pondered this idea at first, not sure if she was ready to try this new idea he had in mind. Ultimately though, she didn't see any real reason not to go through with it, and after a brief moment of composure, she gave a brief, but firm, nod.

A ghost of a smile, followed by a larger one forming, "Okay...turn off your translator, and just follow my lead, okay?"

"Okay," she replied simply, before using a single finger to tap at her omni-tool, disabling her translator instantly. From this point forward...well, things were going to get interesting for the quarian.

There was a moment of silence that followed the action, the two of them staring aimlessly at each other, not speaking a single word. The room itself offered no respite, sharing in their silentium as even the external milieu was dampened and muted. Tali simply sat there, fingers twisting and pulling at one another, while Shepard thought of where to take this. What word should he start off with? Obviously a basic one, but none came to mind at first. However, after about two seconds, he was quickly able to think of one, and he shook his head as he realized the obviousness of it. He had to stop himself from hitting his head out of annoyance towards his denseness.

 _What better word to start off with than your own name?_

"Tali?" he began, only to realize she wouldn't understand him. The quarian slowly turned to face him, only able to note the questioning tone of his voice, and not the actual question itself. She cocked her head comically, and he moved to repeat his statement, only to pull back once he realized the futility of it. Sighing, scratching his stubble, he turned towards her, cleared his throat, and simply said, "John."

She remained silent, so he chose to repeat the word again, hoping that by repeating it she would realize he was giving her a word to try and pronounce, "John."

It took her a second, but she had always been a quick learner. She pieced together what he was trying to do even without knowing what he was saying, and the sound of a cleared throat could be heard as she verbally prepared herself. After one shaky breath, she spoke, her voice sounding strained as it tried to regurgitate the alien word presented to her, "Joahn?"

He shook his head, leaning closer as he made sure to enunciate the entire word (which was difficult, given it was a single syllable word), "John."

"Joan?"

He had to bite back a laugh at that, knowing he had to do his best to be patient with her. Learning another person's language on the fly was difficult enough, especially when you were learning from somebody who had absolutely no expertise in cross-linguistical education. He was no translator, so he had to work with what he had. Licking his lips, he thought of how to approach it, but decided repetition was probably the best way. Let her hear what he was saying, and emulate it as best as possible: that's how he learnt to speak when he was a kid, so maybe it would work here with Tali?

 _How hard could it be, really?_

Harder than he believed, probably.

"John," he stated again.

This time, Tali seemed to stew on it for a few more seconds, before finally trying again, "John...?"

He grinned pridefully, nodding at her success. Tali saw this and bobbed her head lightly as well, pleased at her own victory at well. However, in her glee, she temporarily forgot that her translator was turned off, turning towards him with a giggle, " _Be'let demk'et'exa pedne akamen_!"

Grinning a little, he shook his head, pointing towards her mouth in an effort to remind her the translator was still on. Sighing heavily, she raised her omni-tool, tapping at a few times before restoring her translator to full operation, reiterating what she had tried to say before, "Keelah...that was harder than I thought it was going to be. So you're sure I said your name right? I didn't...screw it up? You're not just saying I said it right to make me feel better?"

His grin never lessened, "Not at all. You aced it."

"It was much harder than I thought it would be," she admitted, shrugging her shoulders.

He pursed his lips in thought, patting her shoulder gently, "Its alright. I think it'll take us both sometime to get used to this. But, if we want to make a genuine effort to understand each other, we'll probably have to do this more often."

Tali just scoffed, "I'm not exactly the best teacher. I'm an engineer, not a linguist."

"Neither am I," he reminded, leaning forward and tapping his forehead against her mask, "This is a learning experience for both of us. So how about I try a full sentence this time, just three words, and you try and pronounce what I am saying."

She nodded, "Okay. Hopefully I don't mess it up too badly."

He could only smile, "You won't. I'm sure of it."

And so they did. It was no smooth ride, for sure: they both had their hurdles they needed to circumvent, and trying not to succumb to frustration as confusion set in for both of them was difficult, but they were convinced they could do it, and so they did. Slowly, one word and hours at a time, they learnt to speak sentences to each other. They would definitely need professionals to teach them each other's full languages, but what they were doing was a stepping stone to aiding the other in understanding the linguistical tempest that was cross-species language barriers.

Shepard and Tali had beaten the odds before. They had defied all other expectations already. A language they couldn't speak fluently wasn't going to keep them apart, and if they could surmount that, then anything else was possible.

It was definitely an interesting shore leave.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_

 _ **Yeah...I have no excuse for why this prompt took so damn long to write. In all honesty, it shouldn't have. The only excuse I have is that I got wrapped up in gaming for two weeks, placing Halo MCC, Sea of Thieves and Battlefield 1 (and finishing up ReCore), hanging out with friends and being too damn tired to do anything inbetween, that fanfiction just sorta...fell through the cracks. It sucks, and I was growing just as frustrated as I'm sure you guys did with every day that passed without a release, but finally...here it is. Btw, keep in mind that the initial AN at the top of this chapter was written two weeks ago...when I was starting the prompt. Hence the disparity between the tone in that initial AN and this one.**_

 _ **This prompt didn't turn out entirely the way I wanted, and that's fine. I was hoping to go more into depth with the teaching between them, but I just couldn't figure out how to do it. I've never encountered author's block as hard as I have with this, and I knew if I couldn't this way, it'd be another month before it was finished. In the end, I made a decision, and I powered through it. If this isn't how the prompter envisioned, then I apologize. But it was either this, or never end up seeing your prompt realized at all. I hope you can at least say the prompt made an admirable attempt to satisfy what you wanted. If not...then nobody is more disappointed than me in the final product.**_

 _ **Hopefully, with this prompt done, I can finally move on and get back to (semi) normal posting. I know that sounds like I've turned this prompt into a sacrificial lamb, but that wasn't my intention. My writing ethos ever since my initial first few fics has always been to give everything I write the greatest amount of attention possible, but with this prompt...I just couldn't do it. I tried my hardest, but it just wasn't happening. In the end, I did the best I could with what conviction I had...and this is what came out of it.**_

 _ **Now, this following announcement you can either take as good or bad news, depending how you view Flashpoint. As of this prompt being released, I am no longer adding any new prompts to my Flashpoint outline. What prompts have been posted before this prompt's upload will be the ones I write (which leaves me 12-11 prompts left after this to write). The reason for this is because I've come up with a whole bunch of new story ideas, and one of them I was hoping to fit into Flashpoint's original upload slot. This does not mean Flashpoint is being cancelled...all it means is that I need time to actually write this new story's outline, and I can't do that with time being juggled between both EQC and Flashpoint...one of them has to be put on hiatus. So with that said, this is both good and bad news...good, because it means I'm writing another story, and bad, because you people who love Flashpoint may not get more of it for a while.**_

 _ **So I'll end my author's note there. I'm still a tad disappointed regarding this prompt, but hopefully we'll be back to full operation now that I can start Chapter 8 of EQC and that FABT is now officially wrapped up. Here's hoping, anyway.**_

 _ **Keelah se'lai, troopers!**_


	15. Snapshot 14: Prima Facie

_**This next prompt is for a guest by the name of GMAC. Now, just like Snapshot 11, I have no idea if the guest prompter is even going to see this (since Flashpoint went dead silent for nearly a month and the fact I can't contact them), so if you do see this...let me know what you think. Maybe I'll luck out like I did with 11 and the guest will notice...if not, I hope everybody else enjoys it. As always, be sure to leave a review to let me know what you think.**_

* * *

"Garrus, about to be overrun on my left flank!"

"We'll swap! On my mark! Three...two..."

"ONE!" they said in unison, quarian and turian, shotgun and assault rifle in hand respectively, suddenly snapping away from their positions to participate in the dance of battle: the low, ghostly moans that exceeded their view were of little interest to them, the two combatants having fallen into an unwavering rhythm of death defying, destruction derbying gymnastics that would make any special operations unit proud to behold. Their swapping of roles wasn't one tied to panic or fleeting temptations with escape...they were a carefully coordinated martial art, developed to be used in the most dire of circumstances.

Any other team, even one filled with the most battle hardened of marines, would have floundered and collapsed under the enormous pressure being exerted upon them. After all, having hordes upon hordes of never-ending, mindless, grotesque technozombies drenched in the stink of death and with eyes as soulless as a machine storming your position, non-stop, without reprieve, would destroy the morale of many an army. But these two weren't just an army...they were part of a special team. A team of heroes. A team of people who had seen horrors beyond their wildest imaginings, and had simply stared back into the black abyss. They had started from humble beginnings, and risen to become something immense in purpose and paramount in importance.

Tali'Zorah and Garrus Vakarian were an unlikely pair of allies...but not only were they comrades in arms, but they had a familial bond that transcended the usual comraderie exerted by troops in battle. As such, their coordination was impeccable, their communication almost telepathic in its precision. The two raced from one position to the next, and within moments, had secured these new footholds and continued to push the enemy back. Shotgun kicked up, tearing limbs from trios of husks, while an assault rifle's staccato beat tore through the lines of abominations, shredding skin and rupturing useless blood vessels, spilling their black gore across the metal deck, bodies heaping ontop of each other in an avalanche of death. But despite this slaughter, they never relented.

No matter how skilled, numbers would eventually prove to be enough to cripple the three-man team.

"Shepard, we can't hold this position much longer!" Garrus shouted while he continued to fire into the tsunami of creatures, not wanting to risk turning his head for even one second should a lucky husk make a leap for him and grab the turian while he wasn't looking. If he fell for even one moment, it was over, "If you're going to blow up the core, now would be a good time!"

"I second that!" shouted Tali, her voice more strained as she deployed her drone, Chatika vas Paus, to distract a large portion of her side. Wielding a shotgun, she didn't have the automatic firepower at Garrus' disposal, and had to make do with what she had. Her added advantage was that her shotgun, a geth directed energy model, usually scored multiple kills with one plasma burst, which made up for her lack of DPS.

Commander Shepard, the man in question, raised his M-100 Scutum grenade launcher, just as the protective shutters protecting the Reaper's drive core shot open, revealing the glowing blue core underneath, naked for all to see. Cracks had appeared in its casing, evidence of Shepard's previous attempts to destroy it, but he knew just one more hit would do the Reaper in. There was nothing the derelict monolith could do. Its doom was imminent.

Shepard didn't wait. Hefting the launcher, with a grenade loaded into the chamber, he shouldered the weapon and fired. A loud thump was heard, smoke proliferating from the barrel, the explosive tipped canister arcing upward as quick as a lightning bolt. The hit was all that was needed: the casing shattered from the plume of flame that erupted from the explosion, taking the core with it in a thunderous, nearly deafening, conflagration.

Almost immediately, the Derelict Reaper began to shake violently, quickly escalating into massive tremors as the ancient vessel's mass effect fields failed, plummeting it into the gas giant Mnemosyne's atmosphere. This had been the plan of course...with those fields active, it was stopping Shepard and his team from escaping the dormant dreadnought. However, with them now done, they were in a race against the clock to get off the ship before the Reaper reached the deep core of the gas giant: where the high pressure and winds would tear even this armoured, seemingly-invincible beast apart.

With the Reaper's death warrant signed, the husks stopped coming: perhaps it believed it could take the three with it when it plunged into the planet's depths. Its mistake.

Holstering his grenade launcher, he turned around just as Tali and Garrus ran up to him, the squad wavering back and forth as they tried to keep their balance, the intense quakes getting worse as they ran their way up the ship. But despite all that, they had another concern, and it was resting right infront of them at that very moment.

A geth. A modified trooper class platform, to be precise. Lying on its back. 'Unconscious', for lack of a better word.

In all honesty, their mission was supposed to have been relatively simple. The Illusive Man's science teams on the Derelict Reaper had extracted the expired dreadnought's IFF, which the _Normandy_ crew needed if they wanted to pass through the Omega 4 Relay and take the fight to the Collector's home turf. Nobody was expecting the boarding of their archnemesis, regardless of its status, to be a pushover affair. By all accounts, it wasn't. Husks ambushing them left and right, no sign of the science team with only pockets of information to confirm their grisly fate...it hadn't been easy. But none of them had expected this.

Joker had picked up the geth ship upon boarding the Reaper. They knew they were bound to encounter geth forces of some description. Tali was even eagerly anticipating it, somewhat exhilirated for a chance to kill more of her people's most feared and hated enemy.

What they _hadn't_ expected was that there would only be one geth. A class of geth they had never encountered before, but one that looked very much like the standard trooper-class. A geth that can _talk_. But, perhaps strangest of all, a geth that had _assisted_ them. A geth that was _fighting_ Reaper forces.

None of it added up. Shepard's experiences with the geth during the Eden Prime War had taught him many things: while they had been sympathetic in their war for survival against the quarians three centuries ago, their allegiance to _Sovereign_ and and their worship of the Reapers as gods had destined the geth to be Shepard's enemy as well. He had killed scores of their brethren, possibly even thousands, and never blinked an eye. He had seen the atrocities they committed: hell, they even initially believed the creation of husks was a geth invention, only to find out later that it was a Reaper tactic, one that the geth were simply used to carry out. The geth would slaughter civilians without a care in the world. They were cold and careless...devoid of emotion. It had been enough for Shepard to justify killing them by their dozens. He felt no remorse for killing them in combat.

In the end, he had simply assumed all geth followed the Reapers. The arrival of this new geth, different in its design and able to communicate through means that didn't involve high-pitched, unintelligible electronic warbles, conflicted this notion. This geth was clearly fighting against the Reaper hellspawn...not only that, but it identified Shepard by name, and helped them in their fight throughout the Reaper...whether it be simple fire support, or opening doors for them.

Whatever this geth was...it was an anomaly. And Shepard, being far too curious for his own good, couldn't help but bite.

"What do we do with the geth?" Garrus asked, raising the question before anybody else could.

Tali's answer was predictable, if not understandable, "Leave it here!" she turned to look at Shepard, stumbling slightly as a tremor tore through the ship again, "You've seen what they can do. If we bring it onto the _Normandy_ , it'll gain access to the ship's computers! It might even hack EDI and turn he- _it_ against us!"

While Shepard could understand her paranoia and reluctance to allow her enemy to be brought back to her home ship, even in an unconscious state, he couldn't let this opportunity slide. This geth was different somehow...and Shepard needed to get to the bottom of it. He needed to question this geth. See what it wanted. How it was different. And if possible, find out if there are more geth like it.

No, he couldn't turn down this chance. Not even for one of his best friends.

"You said it yourself, Tali," he stated simply, shaking his head, "An intact geth has never been captured before. We won't get another opportunity like this. What this geth knows...it could change everything."

"And it might not!" Tali argued, her tone growing more desperate and temperamental, "I don't think its worth the risk, Shepard!"

At that moment, a part of the ceiling was shaken loose from the ship's convulsions, crashing with a loud bang into the far side of the catwalk that they were standing on, breaking part of the railing off and deforming the metal from the impact. The tremors grew in intensity, and Shepard knew they couldn't stay here for much longer. He needed to make a decision, and quickly.

He knew what he needed to do.

"We don't have time to argue!" he barked, motioning to his turian friend, who was keeping out of the debate for his own sake, "Garrus, help me lift it up. Tali, take point. Make sure no husks surprise us."

She shot him a glare for a moment, but her instincts quickly kicked in and her shotgun was in hand once more, the quarian moving up ahead to clear the way. Garrus slung one of the geth's arms over his shoulders, while Shepard did the other side, and they were quickly in motion as they dashed across the catwalk, escaping just as it collapsed behind them. Tali was far ahead of them, gunning down whatever husks were still stupid enough to try and challenge their escape. She didn't speak...she simply carried out her orders as instructed, while Garrus and Shepard wordlessly pressed on from behind, the geth's arms slung over their shoulders.

A minute or two after informing Joker of their coordinates, the _Normandy_ parted the void of space, the intense light of the system's sun piercing the heavy cloud cover of the gas giant to reflect brightly off the stealth frigate's white and gold hull. The airlock opened almost immediately after doing this, the large form of a krogan Shepard recognized as Grunt standing in the doorway, hefting a elephantine M-76 Revenant light machine gun. He poured fire into the ranks of the husks following behind them. Tali was waiting at the end of the ramp, her worry for her teammates overriding her anger at Shepard's decision.

And angry she was. Shepard and Tali had known each other long enough for him to read the body signals she gave off, and her bristling posture, silent composure and narrowed eyes highlighted to him just how pissed off she was with this decision. In all fairness, if someone had told him that Tali was bringing a batarian slaver to join his crew, he'd be pissed off too. Tali was his friend, and he was essentially bringing her people's worst enemy, the same one that had deprived her of her childhood, her homeworld and the ability to live freely, onto the same ship she served on. He'd be surprised if she took this with a smile.

Despite this, he pressed on. His concern for Tali's opinion of him was nowhere near as important as the need to interrogate this geth and find out its allegiance. If more geth existed like this one, he needed to find them. Every ally they could scrounge up to fight the Reapers was one more step towards a greater victory, and he couldn't let his personal feelings, or that of his squadmates, even one such as Tali, get in the way out of that. He had to think of the situation rationally. He couldn't allow emotions to cloud his judgment. ICA had honed this into him since his first day at N program training, and despite the fact he was no longer military, these were instincts that were nearly impossible to shake off.

As such, Tali merely gifted him a look to make sure he was okay before she turned away and fired upon the husks again. In return, he gave her a nod before both he and Garrus reached the edge, tossing the dormant geth towards the airlock as they allowed Newton's first law to take care of the rest. On the other side, Grunt lowered his weapon and grabbed the machine, placing it down in the airlock before returning to his previous task of providing covering fire.

Garrus looked at him, and Shepard simply bobbed his head in silent acknowledgement of the turian's question. He knew what Garrus was thinking. Nodding his assent, the turian stepped back, readied himself and then lunged off the ledge, heading for the _Normandy_ just as another tremor shook the Reaper.

Turning back to Tali, he fired his pistol at a charging husk, blowing its head off. Chunks of black viscera and charred bone glistened in their exposure to the UV rays impacting the Reaper's hull, the liquid floating off into the void as the husk's motionless body left the deck and floated aimlessly into space. He turned back to Tali.

"We need to leave!"

Not waiting for her answer, he simply turned his pistol and fired again, blowing off the head of another of the Reaper's minions. At the same time, he wrapped his arm around Tali's waist, pulling her firmly against him. Oddly enough, despite her anger, she thought nothing of this, and continued firing off shots from her shotgun. As such, she barely reacted when he took a step back and then ran for the airlock, jumping out into open space and allowing their momentum to carry them towards the airlock where Garrus and Grunt were waiting. His arm held Tali to his hip, while the quarian's shoulder continued to buck from continued shotgun fire.

"Spirits, you two are bloody show-offs," Garrus quipped, watching as the two spun through space, finally landing inside the airlock. The airlock door closed, the chamber repressurizing and sending both quarian and human thumping to the deck, both of them letting out mutual grunts as they landed.

"Joker, get us the hell out of here!" Shepard hissed as he sat up. Joker's only answer was the lurch of the ship as it made a sharp turn to starboard, thrusters kicking in seamlessly and propelling the ship out into space, escaping the death throes of the enormous beast they had been encased in.

A quick decontamination sequence followed, and the team, except Tali, all removed their helmets as they reentered the ship proper, Grunt dragging the geth behind them.

"So, Commander, what took you so long in-" the pilot turned in his seat, large grin on his face as he turned to appraise the group when his eyes landed squarely on the geth at their feet, his smile falling away, "Uh...Shepard, remember when I made those jokes about our ever-so-eccentric squad of misfits? Yeah, well...that wasn't a challenge to make it weirder."

"Duly noted, Joker," Shepard retorted, turning to look down at the geth, "Garrus, help me get this thing to the AI core. EDI, I want a force field ready to go when we get there so we can keep this thing imprisoned. Tali, could you-"

When he looked up, she wasn't there. Frowning, his vision turned and finally saw where she had gone, the elevator door closing just as he noticed her destination. His shoulders sagged, the soldier rubbing his chin as he beheld the full might of the quarian's anger. He had truly pissed her off, and he had no idea just how much damage he might have caused with his action.

 _I hope this damn geth is worth it._

* * *

He was beginning to think the geth wasn't worth it.

Shepard wouldn't pretend all of his decisions were easy to make. They weren't. Today was proof of that. His decision to bring a geth onto the _Normandy_ , against the wishes of someone he considered one of his closest friends, had been hard to do, but deemed to be necessary. A find such as this was seldom explored, and not something he could pass up...even for Tali. He knew he would have to face the consequences of such a decision in the short term...but he still wasn't quite prepared for it.

It had been one thing to bring the geth onboard...but then he had decided to awaken it. When he did, the geth showed no hostility, so he questioned it. What he learned had been enlightening: not only was it revealed to him that the geth following the Reapers were part of a rogue faction known internally as the Heretics, but the vast majority of geth, as in a massive 91 percent, weren't part of them. This geth, revealed to be a special type of geth known as an Infiltrator-class, had been sent from beyond the Perseus Veil to find Shepard after the defeat of _Sovereign_ two years ago, with the geth believing Shepard to be the galaxy's one chance of defeating them. After a long discussion, the geth was given a name: Legion. When he asked to join Shepard's crew, he had been hesitant, but eventually agreed to it. It had seemed natural to accept the geth's request.

If there was a line to cross, he had crossed it.

Tali was beyond livid: she was incensed. When Tali received word of a geth moving around the ship freely, she had apparently lost her shit and immediately stormed up to Shepard's cabin to confront him. Even now, as he sat down in his seat, staring blankly at his desk's cold, steel monochrome surface, he couldn't help but think back to that argument...that heated confrontation. It was the most argumentative she had ever been with him, and he couldn't remember a time where their voices had been raised so high when speaking to each other. It had seemed so unfathomable.

It didn't help matters that the two of them were currently in a newly burgeoning relationship. These had been feelings the two had stored up for quite a while now, and both of them had been elated to finally let them out, and have the other accept them. They were taking it slow, both of them doing the research necessary to ensure they could be together safely when the time came, but neither of them had been particularly annoyed by that. They were just happy to finally be where they wanted to be after two years.

This argument was probably the first roadblock in that course to happiness. His first major fuckup.

He could remember every single second of it if he closed his eyes. And close them he did, the memories rushing back into his mind so fast and so vivid it was almost like the event was playing out before him right now, in the flesh, in real time.

 _He was working at his console, having just wrapped up his conversation with the newly denominated Legion. What he had learned was astounding, and only served to further reinforce his belief that he had indeed made the right decision in keeping the geth and reactivating it. Not only did they have a geth ally on their team now, but the first building block towards a lasting peace with the geth was now in the works. He didn't think such an alliance would be on the table before...but the revelations of today had completely dissolved any misapprehension of that being the case._

 _He had just finished wrapping up an email to the Illusive Man, assuring him that he had the situation well in hand. He was getting quite sick of having to report to the shadowy figure, and looked forward to the day he could finally kiss this organization goodbye and part ways with the man. For now though, this was a Cerberus operation, and he was expected to treat it as such...and that meant nearly daily reports. Miranda had assured him she would handle it, but he had felt like this, including the situation with waking up Grunt a few months back, had been something he needed to tackle personally._

 _Now that he was here, he had to think of how best to break this news to Tali. He had no illusions regarding her reaction to this, and despite the quarian's staunch trust in him so far, there was only so much one could do before overstepping the mark, and he had definitely gone above and beyond doing that. There would be hell to pay, and he would need to find a way to assuage his friend's fears that-_

 _The door to his cabin suddenly shot open, but before he had even begun to turn around, he already knew who it was: very few people frequented his cabin, and there was only one that could access it whenever they so wished: Tali._

 _"Have you completely lost your mind!?" she snapped, fists clenched at her sides and body bristling with unrestrained anger as she shot the accusation straight at Shepard. Any other military commander wouldn't tolerate such blatant insubordination from their subalterns, but Shepard was an exception. While he did have limits, such as questioning orders in the entropy of battle, he tried to keep an open mind about the management of his ship, and often allowed discussion amongst his subordinates and with them when it came to debating serious issues. As he liked to say, soldiers who can't think for themselves are of no use to him. The reason his team had been so effective was because, he liked to think, of this very model. Their diversity was their strength, because it allowed an myriad of opinions and differing strategies to be thrown into the mix, leading to the creation of complex, and oft times unique, tactics in battle._

 _At any other time, Tali would be crossing the line with her attitude. But given the situation, and his ostensible bias towards her, her out-of-line conduct was given a free pass, and thus her opprobrium continued unabated._

 _Given the silence between her statement and Shepard's lack of a response, he had to assume her question was, in fact, not rhetorical, "Tali, I know you're pissed off about me reactivating Legion. If you'll just hear me-"_

 _"Legion?" she asked quizzically, the name leaving her mouthpiece almost like it was ash in her mouth, "You named the fre'eg of a machine? No, you_ _ **have**_ _gone insane!"_

 _"Tali, just listen," he requested firmly, noting the changing of the quarian's posture from clenched fists to crossed arms and a piercing glare, "I didn't think Leg-the geth would teach us anything beyond what we already knew. But I was wrong, Tali. He's not the only one of his kind! He says the geth who fought us during the Eden Prime War were part of a rogue faction they call heretics. The majority of the geth hold no ill will towards organics."_

 _Tali scoffed, dismissively waving her hand in a demonstration of contempt towards the notion. The gesture made Shepard somewhat angry, although he made sure to restrain himself from lashing out at her. She was completely justified in her hatred, so he knew not to interrupt her, lest he provoke her even further. This was a sensitive issue, "That's a small comfort to the billions they murdered during the Morning War, Shepard. What about them? Do you actually believe this geth's asinine claim that they only want to coexist with organics? They have killed every single organic being who has ever traversed into the Veil! They massacred women and children during the war, even after we tried to surrender! How can you take what it says seriously?"_

 _"They sent a lone unit to find me, Tali," he elaborated, standing up as he tried to galvanize his point, "A single geth, venturing beyond the Veil, putting itself in danger, to find me. Why would they do that?"_

 _"To infiltrate this ship and perhaps even sabotage our operations!" Tali desperately threw out to justify her own argument, as weak as it was, "The geth could be attempting espionage! It could be trying to hack EDI, even as we speak!"_

 _He just frowned at her, shaking his head, "It had me in its sights back on the Reaper, Tali. It could have blown my head off at several different occasions. Instead, it helped us. If it intended anything other than peaceful intentions, then I don't see why they would waste time trying to win my trust when they can just kill me. They're machines. They operate on logic, do they not?"_

 _Tali could see the shrewd logic of his argument, but she simply wasn't willing to give up. She was too invested in his issue to capitulate, "We have no idea what its intentions might be! We can't allow it to remain on the ship! And quite frankly, Shepard, I'm surprised you would allow something that dangerous to roam the ship in the first place! I thought you were smarter than this! You're allowing curiosity to overcome your professional judgment!"_

 _Despite trying to tackle the subject with some finesse and nuance, he couldn't help the sarcastic lacing of his next comment, his mocking tone escaping his lips before he could reel it back in, "Oh, am I now? Like you're allowing your professional judgment to cloud your mindset? You're not even willing to consider the possibility that this geth might have good intentions! You're allowing your own bias and hatred of them to impair your intuition!"_

 _Tali shook her head, disgusted, "I know from experience that these..._ _ **things**_ _...can't be trusted! I don't care what you learned from it...its an AI. AIs always turn against organics! Its endemic to their nature! You've fought the geth...you know what they're like! They're cold-hearted, ruthless machines that don't stop until they've eradicated every organic they come across!"_

 _"Yeah, except this one," he drawled, "It can talk too. And its alone. You told me geth operate in networked clusters, meaning that the more geth programs are present in one area, the smarter they are, and the less there are, the dumber. This single geth platform, alone, is not only more intelligent than the average geth, but it can also talk and it hasn't tried to kill any of us yet. Maybe Tali, just maybe, you're wrong. Perhaps this geth is different. Or maybe...your people have been wrong about the geth all along."_

 _This was exactly the wrong thing to say. Tali didn't take this in stride at all, the quarian's eyes widening, "You bosh'tet! Don't you dare stand there and tell me what I should think about these det kazuats! My people have been fighting them for three centuries! We know them better than anyone!"_

 _"Then explain to me why it can talk!" he snapped, gritting his teeth in irritation. She refused to understand! No, she didn't want to understand! It was making him angrier and angrier with every obstacle she put up. She was just too...damn stubborn! "Tell me that! Why is it it can operate alone and still retain the same level of intelligence? Why, after all the geth we've fought, does this one suddenly want to be friends? None of it adds up, Tali! And don't tell me you knew about this...you were just as surprised as I was!"_

 _"So...what?" she began, feigning contriteness, "We should just open our arms and let it in? Give it a gun, have it watch our backs?"_

 _"I wouldn't go that far," he stated hesitantly, pausing for a moment before shrugging with a sigh, "At least not yet."_

 _"At least not_ _ **yet**_ _?" she asked astoundingly, her voice betraying her exasperation, "Not only are you letting it wander the ship, but you're also considering letting it fight alongside us? No Shepard...no, I can't accept this."_

 _"You will," he stated dangerously, his tone lowering as he finally had enough and adopted a serious, no-nonsense tone, "One way or another, I'll be putting Legion to the test in the next couple days. I want to see how it performs and how it will operate as part of the squad. I don't expect you to fully understand or even accept my reasoning for this, but I do expect you to give this geth a modicum of patience."_

 _"So that's it then?" Tali asked, a mixture of anger and defeat blending together in her voice, "My opinion doesn't matter to you?"_

 _He sighed, rubbing his eyes with exhaustion. Why couldn't she understand? "Of course it matters to me. But I've made my decision, and its final."_

 _A pregnant pause made sure to cloud the murky silence that followed the brief, but decisive, argument, neither of them having expected the outcome that had eventuated. A part of Shepard had expected Tali to accept his reasoning, while Tali had hoped to convince Shepard of the error of his ways and to flush the geth out an airlock. Neither had been successful. The argument had been a waste of time for both sides._

 _"Keelah, I thought you were smarter than this," Tali declared, Shepard wincing from the harsh vituperation, "I would follow you anywhere, Shepard, but I can't follow you on this. This is a mistake. You're endangering the crew with your damned curiosity, and its going to get somebody hurt or killed. I...I can't do this. I won't support this."_

 _Before he could so much as utter another word, Tali turned and wordlessly stormed out of the cabin, leaving behind a very bitter and crestfallen Shepard. He had naively believed he could convince Tali to trust him on this, but some issues just ran too deep. Tali was right: her people knew the geth best, and had fought them the longest. This conflict was centuries old, and he was an idiot to think he could convince Tali to drop all of this instinct in just a matter of words. He had gotten arrogant and, as a result, may have just cost him Tali's trust._

 _He wanted to curse Legion for creating this whole, sodden situation. He wanted to be annoyed at Tali for not understanding his position. But, in the end, it all came back to him and the decision he had made in the first place._

 _He should have just left Legion on the Reaper._

He opened his eyes shortly afterwards, staring aimlessly at the half-written email to his mother he had tried to write to take his mind off the predicament at hand. Ultimately, it had proved to be a wasteful effort, and he just could't bring himself to tear Tali out of his mind, even an hour after their argument had concluded. He knew he loved her, and that the quarian's opinion of him mattered greatly...the idea of her hating him for his choice troubled him more than he was willing to accept.

The simple solution would be to go down, give Tali a shotgun and tell her to have at it with Legion. But that would be the coward's way out...in a way, he knew he was morally right in regards to Legion, and he wanted to give the geth a chance. To sacrifice his personal integrity as a person simply to win back the approval of his girlfriend was not only selfish, but foolish. He wouldn't, and couldn't, sacrifice the war effort for one woman and justify it. But that didn't mean he couldn't fathom another solution either.

It really came down to renewing Tali's trust in him. Reminding her that he hadn't let her down in the past, and wouldn't now. The quarian had been loyal to him so far, and he was thankful for that. All it really came down to was reinforcing that trust.

 _I don't want to lose her. I can't._

With steel flooding his resolve, he raised his head slightly to address EDI, but before he could so much as open his mouth, EDI spoke first, apparently having preempted his request, "Tali is currently sitting in the Port Observation lounge if you wish to speak to her, commander."

"Oh..." he said dumbly, licking his lips before shrugging non-chalantly and standing up, "...thanks, EDI."

Reaching the elevator, he thumbed the button for Deck 3, mentally preparing himself for what could be another argument. But Tali was worth the turmoil, and this time, he wasn't going to give up until he was sure he had rectified the boundary between them. He knew he could convince Tali, he just had to find the right way of wording it.

The elevator began its descent.

* * *

When he entered the room less over a minute later, he found Tali sitting in a semi-fetal position on the couch, facing away from him, eyes glancing out into the stars through the observation window. Samara was nowhere to be found, meaning she was either out in the mess hall to get something to eat or, being the ever insightful sage that she was, she had noticed Tali's mental state and removed herself of her own volition. Whatever the case, he was thankful the asari wasn't here, not wanting an audience to the conversation he was about to have.

He knew not to overstep his boundaries. This was one pissed off quarian, and he knew what they were capable of when angry, so he elected to play it safe and placed himself on the far side of the couch. putting a meter and a half between them. Silence seemingly dominated the beginning of their conversation, keeping one another from speaking for fear of shattering it violently and provoking the other. As such, nothing was said in those moments. The only actions were thoughts, the two contemplating their next step and how best to begin.

To no one's surprise, it was Shepard who spoke first, clearing his throat awkwardly, "My mum always said my curiosity would get the better of me someday. 'Curiosity killed the cat', as the saying goes. My inquisitiveness had me climbing trees, making pets out of spiders and other insects...it got me into a lot of trouble. But I remember the other part of that saying. 'Satisfaction brought it back.' Curiosity is a gamble. Its a risk one takes when trying to make strides into unknown territory. But when it pays off...it pays off. I've always seen my curiosity as a story of personal betterment...but also a means from which to better everything else. After all, to some degree, curiosity is what led me into this whole Reaper mess to begin with. I could have convinced Anderson to forget the visions and leave it be...but I didn't. I persisted, and now look where we are. In a way Tali, I can't fault my curiosity, but its what led us to meet in that alleyway."

He paused for a moment, allowing his words to sink in. If Tali was moved by his words, she didn't outwardly show it, although she did shuffle slightly on the couch after he finished. Seeing that he hadn't precipitated a negative response from the woman, he thought it prudent to press on, and so he did, "I'll be the first to admit that my curiosity can get the better of me sometimes, but I can't help it. I just...I understand why you're angry at me. I even sympathize with it. I gave some serious thought to throwing Legion out the airlock. I hate seeing you upset, and I'm not accustomed to being the source of it. I was just so...frustrated. Frustrated that you weren't listening to me. That I wasn't making my point clear. Perhaps it was naivete that drove me to think I could convince you to throw away centuries worth of hatred for the geth. Or maybe it was just arrogance. But I never meant to create this rift between us. You know I value your opinion. God knows your insight and intellect has gotten us out of a few hairy situations already. I...care about you. I just wanted to articulate my feelings on the matter, and I completely fucked it up. I alienated you, and I'm sorry. I don't want us to argue, and certainly not over this. I just...wanted you to understand my position. Why I did what I did, and why I think its for the best. I didn't throw Legion out the airlock, and I'm not going to. While my decision remains unchanged, I do want to make sure the same can be said of our friendship. You matter to me a great deal, and I don't want this to be what destroys our relationship."

There. He had said it. All he could do now was sit and wait for Tali's response, and hope it was remotely positive. In all honesty, he was expecting her to throw his words back in his face, knowing that his decision hadn't really changed. And despite his gut telling him that she was being stubborn for thinking as much, he still couldn't find it in himself to blame her.

Love could be a strange thing.

Despite the enormity of the silence that hung between them, the straw that broke it was something he hadn't expected at all. The quarian slowly crawled across the couch until she was snuggled up against him, her arms wrapped around his neck gently as she pressed her head into the crook of his neck, hugging him, her voice soft and regretful, "I...I don't want to stay mad at you. And I'm sorry for what I said. I still trust you. Don't believe for a second I don't. There was a lot of pent up emotion being unleashed up there, and I'm sorry you had to be the target of my anger. I just...I don't trust Legion, Shepard. I can't trust any geth. I can't simply shake that off overnight."

He nodded. This was totally understandable. Of course, Shepard realized he had been tackling this entire situation completely from the wrong angle. It wasn't her trust in Legion he needed..."What about me?" he poised, voice a whisper as they kept their conversation between themselves under lowered tones, "Do you trust me?"

One of her hands gripped his shirt tightly, her helmet raising slightly so her eyes could peer into his, "No question. I'd follow you anywhere, _neh'sah_."

He smiled back at her, cupping her jaw and rubbing the underside of her helmet with his thumb, "Then trust me on this. I don't ask you to trust Legion. I'm asking you to trust me. You've already done so much to serve at my side. I know working with Cerberus has been hard for you, given what they did to your people on the _Idenna_. You trusted me on that, so trust me on this. I don't expect you to accept Legion overnight. Or ever. But I do ask that you trust me on this. Have I ever let you down?"

After a moment, her eyes shifting back and forth as she read his expression, she shook her head, "No. Never."

His forehead tapped against her visor, a loving gesture, "Then trust me again. And if Legion proves to be the threat you think it to be...then I'll have no problems with you taking him out."

"Okay, Shepard. I'll follow your lead."

Thankful that the aperture between them had been mended, the two took the moment to simply rest and hold each other. Moments such as these were fleeting, and it wouldn't be long before the two of them had to return to work, for there was much of it to be done.

Neither of them had expected an argument of this scale between them, but now that they had, they knew what to expect. Relationships were hardly perfect, even one perceivably as quintessential as theirs, and they had both had their first taste for it. But it took a special kind of relationship to push through those issues and still come out ontop. And Shepard knew it would take more than a disagreement, even about a topic as sensitive as the geth, to tear them apart.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_

 _ **I once again apologize for their delay, but here you have it. If you're still reading this GMAC, here is your prompt and I hope its everything you expected. I was going to have them "make up" as you suggested at the end, but given that this argument took place around the time before their first night together, it didn't seem right for them to make up in that kind of way, so I settled for this instead. I hope you enjoyed it regardless, and thought the ending was satisfying.**_

 _ **I'll be doing Equilibrium Chapter 9 next before I tackle the next prompt. Just keep in mind that no matter how long it takes me to do these prompts, I will get around to doing them! I just procrastinate a bit too much sometimes!**_

 _ **Until next time,**_

 _ **Keelah se'lai, troopers!**_


	16. Snapshot 15: You Came Back To Me

_**This prompt is actually a combination of two prompts, both belonging to Omega 6047. Both of these prompts, when I looked at them individually, were not only short and sweet, but complimented each other seemlessly, hence my decision to combine the two. I hope you all enjoy this prompt, especially you Omega 6047, and with that said, I'll shut up and get straight to the snapshot. Enjoy!**_

* * *

"When life gives you lemons..." she remembered John telling her. She had found human analogies and metaphors strange, finding that they preferred to use everyday items, foods and objects as tools from which to develop proverbial truths. In this case, lemons, an apparently delicious fruit found on Earth, represented serendipity...elements of joy and elation. The idea was that when life provides you an opportunity for happiness, you must jump on it: don't hesitate. He had used it to emphasize just how happy he was that he had found someone like her...that he was lucky enough to have been chosen by her. While happy to hear that, she had mostly been curious as to what a lemon was, and had done some research of her own into these fruits.

Today...she was certain life was giving her rotten, maggot-infested apples.

She stood alone, fingers typing away at her console almost robotically, afraid of the future and what might come next. She should be smiling, but she wasn't. She should feel relieved, but all she felt was anguish. She should be celebrating...but all she could find the strength to do was mourn. And she wasn't even really doing that.

She was too deep in denial for that to happen yet.

Just over a month ago...a galactic cataclysm had been stopped in its tracks. Centuries of extermination, orchestrated by a race of hyper-advanced machines from the dark void between galaxies, had been permanently halted. Every race in the galaxy, in a moment of clarity and with their backs against the wall, launched a daring counteroffensive the likes of which the galaxy had never seen before, against a foe none dared face head on...and was victorious. They suffered enormous losses...almost catastrophic, actually. Billions of soldiers were likely dead or in the process of dying. Entire militaries, even the ones of the mighty Turian Hierarchy, lay exhausted and barely able to stand. Divisions, battlegroups...nearly obliterated. Friends she knew butchered in the heat of battle...finding endless hordes of the zombified undead; loved ones taken and twisted into deformed monstrosities that were then turned on their former comrades, rendered into nothing but mindless vessels. A devastated city, a dread-inducing black sky, skyscraper-sized titans and their army of minions blitzing across entire city blocks...it had all seemed hopeless. But in that hopelessness, in spite of it in fact, came a man who had inspired those same frightened soldiers to battle, lead them to what was most certainly their deaths, all in the name of a final victory that would echo through the eons for centuries more...a tale of triumph against insurmountable odds that would outlive even the 'immortal' Reapers themselves. That would, as _Sovereign_ put it so many years ago, 'endure centuries after their kind was eradicated and forgotten.'

That man was Commander Jonathan Ryan Shepard. Lion of Elysium. Hero of the Citadel. Savior of the Galaxy. Bane of the Reapers. Uniter of Worlds. Liberator of Rannoch. Her commanding officer. Her best friend. Her...lover.

Ever since she had set eyes on him...the quarian was fascinated. How could she not be? Here she was, this naive little pilgrim, being chased from one corner of the galaxy to the next, suspicious of everyone and every bit alone...and then his human commander, clad in red and black armor, red and white N7 stripes slashing across his shoulder, seemingly leaps from the shadows, a turian C-Sec officer and a fearsome red-eyed krogan at his flank, cutting a bloody path through the mercenaries sent to kill her like they were nothing. Then, just as she believed they would turn on her and kill her, he held out his hand to her, and simply said, "Are you, Tali'Zorah? Don't be afraid: we're the good guys."

And from that point forward...Tali was never afraid of combat again. Now _she_ was the one at Shepard's flank, leaping to the rescue of innocents being terrorized by glorified thugs in armor. She had changed so much since then. In just three years, she had gone from a demure quarian engineer living in the shadow of her father...to becoming a marine, and later an admiral. It was safe to say Shepard had changed her life. There was no telling where she might have been by now if he hadn't come storming into her life like that...but she didn't regret a moment of it.

Especialy when they...got close.

Ever since admitting their feelings to one another, their relationship had blossomed, even after their separation when Shepard turned himself into the authorities on Earth following the Bahak incident, and she returned to her people to prepare them for the coming war with the Reapers. When they were reunited...it was like having a missing battery reinserted. They were right back into the thick of it...laughing, crying, yelling...it was like nothing had happened. The old Tali could never have fathomed being able to crack jokes in the middle of combat...but that's just how it was. And she loved it. She loved him, being with him, and fighting by his side. She had barely left more than a few meters pass between them during the final battle in London, the two stuck together like magnets...covering each other in battle, exchanging ammo, providing covering fire. When they finally headed for the Beam, she had convinced herself they were going to make it...she held him close, enjoyed his warmth for what felt like an eternity, and didn't hesitate to grab her shotgun and start running when _Harbinger_ landed and began raining fire down on their battalion. She ran, and ran, ran...ignoring the aching protest of her sore legs and arms, hot and sweaty inside her suit from hours of a seemingly neverending battle for survival, she refused to leave Shepard's side and kept pace with him every step of the way. Even though her quarian legs could carry her further and more rapidly than a human's legs could, she endeavoured to keep up with him...not wanting him to leave her si-

She choked back a sob, fingers ceasing their endless movement as she gripped the console tightly, her knuckles turning a milky shade of white. Her tears felt hot and painful in her eyes, with one finally slipping past and dripping down her cheek. She felt her breath catch in her throat, the room suddenly feeling deprived as oxygen as she fought to breathe. Vivid images flashed through her mind. Horrible memories.

A giant shadow, casting down over her.

Shepard shouting in alarm, too late to save her and Garrus.

The flaming wreck of a M35 Mako tank is thrown up into the air by the power of _Harbinger_ 's immense artillery, the powerful vehicle thrown into the air like a rag doll. It crashed back down, right infront of them, the ensuing geyser of flame from its detonating ammunition sending a plume of fire straight towards them. It never reached them, but neither of them got to sigh in relief in time before a shard of metal, blackened from the fire, lashed out.

A gasp. A lance of agony. A burning sensation...racing up her skin!

She screamed. The pain was a torment she couldn't escape. It felt like she was bathed in a liquid conflagration.

Her vision blacked out from the pain, blinking in and out of consciousness. She heard faint voices. Battle cries. Screams of the wounded. Moans of the husks. The deafening roar of _Harbinger_ 's electronic taunts booming across the landscape, the colossal six kilometer tall monolith never ceasing its onslaught, slaughtering entire platoons with one blast, taking gunships and tanks with them. Explosions, all around them. All Tali wanted to do was push on...keep fighting...reach the Beam...end this once and for all...

She couldn't blackening out...until she heard and felt Shepard. They were moving. He was handing her over to someone. To Garrus. He was moving away...leaving her behind...

...no!

NO!

She reached out, grasped his arm, pleaded for him to stay. He didn't listen. He told her to build a home...to be happy. It was a goodbye. She hated goodbyes.

She begged. She pleaded. Called him _neh'seh_. Her soulmate. She swore she saw a single solitary tear roll down his cheek...and then he was out of her reach, and running off. The _Normandy_ took off, and despite wanting to sprint out to join him, her broken right leg and Garrus' firm grip on her were having none of it. She wept, begging for him to come back...

"Come back to me!"

And then he was a gone. A crimson flash, a mote of light gathering along _Harbinger_ 's hull until it had fully charged up and was locked onto target. All she could do was scream as Shepard's form was drowned out in an angry implosion of red light, her anguished screams the last she heard as she felt a vein pop in her head, blood ooze from her nose, and her fight to stay conscious drained away...allowing the darkness to consume her once more.

Finally allowed respite from the nightmares that so depravingly taunted her, she found herself curled up on the floor, legs pulled up in a fetal position and staring blankly at the steel plating of the engineering deck. It was late into the graveyard shift, so Tali had the bay all to herself: despite Garrus' insistence on getting some rest, she refused to just sit back when there was work to be done. And there was a lot of it.

The _Normandy_ hadn't escaped the Crucible's firing unscatched. Somehow, somebody had made it to the Citadel to open the arms, allowing the Crucible to dock. Just like that, the combined power of the Reapers was rendered moot. Their overwhelming firepower, their fleets of hundreds of thousands of seemingly invulnerable dreadnoughts, their superior intellect and their total lack of fear...it was all useless in that moment. It couldn't save them. _Harbinger_ , their leader, despite its best attempts to wipe out their final charge at the Beam, had failed...and had to watch as the seed of that failure blossomed into a red energy field that swept through the galaxy as the Crucible activated. Every Reaper that was kissed by the field was killed in that instant, the very systems and technology that made them superior proving to be their downfall. Their hulks fell from the sky, toppled into buildings, or sunk into the ocean...one by one they died, until there were no Reapers left in the galaxy. The Milky Way was cleansed of their menace.

Unfortunately, they weren't the Crucible's only victims. Using the mass relays to disperse their energy throughout the galaxy meant that the ships caught in the middle of using them were under threat of being hit by the energy field directly. The _Normandy_ was one such unfortunate vessel, the ship slingshotting through the Charon relay just as the Crucible's field reached them. They were thrown violently out of FTL...it was only by a small miracle that the ship had such a good pilot, and that he was able to land the ship relatively safely and intact on a nearby garden world...presumably Eden Prime, according to their coordinates. Tali had been under for most of it, given a general anesthetic while she performed surgery on the maimed quarian and her turian comrade. When she woke...it was only a day or two after the crash. She was sore...both physically and emotionally. Overcome with grief and too scared to confront it, she had immediately set to work on repairs to the ship, ignoring suggestions for her to rest. Not even Ashley, who was now in command of the ship with Shepard gone, had found it in her heart to push the issue, and let her be.

The ship was quiet now. While communications were currently down and the QEC was non-operational (that had been the crew's priority, as Ashley needed to reestablish contact with Earth and the UGC Victory forces), they all knew the Reapers were finished. They had seen the dying Reapers as they left, their monolithic hulls falling still as the fields touched them. The war was over. They had won. So, they had every reason to celebrate.

But no one did. In fact, the usual light hearted comraderie of the crew was absent. Nobody smiled, nobody sighed with relief or whooped with joy that it was finally over...there was only long faces, blank expressions, the odd laugh and hourly work rotations. The ship was as silent as the grave.

The _Normandy_ had lost their commander. Their captain. The man they'd follow into hell, the one they had loyally served and had come to call a friend...a man who every single member, in one way, shape or form, had been willing to take a bullet for. Their unkillable, incorruptible, nothing-is-impossible commander who cured the genophage, destroyed the Collectors with a single team, killed Saren Arterius, and took down a Reaper on foot...was gone. And the reality was setting in that this time he wouldn't be coming back. There would be no Lazarus project this time.

The crew had no cause to celebrate. All they did was mourn. And none of them grieved harder than the woman Shepard loved...broken and alone, reliving her final moments with him over and over like a form of self-punishment. A way to repent for her failure to save him. To ignore her shattered and useless body and rush out with him. She would likely relive that moment for the rest of her life.

Tears continued to run down her face, and she once again wished she could rip off her mask and wipe them from her cheeks. Instead, she let them continue, adding them to her torment. Perhaps if she cried hard enough...it might bring him back.

 _That's what I thought when mother died. The ignorance of youth. The naviete of childhood._

Not wanting to waste away any further, she reached up to the console and pulled herself back to her feet, dusting off her hands in a human gesture she had picked up from her crewmates...and Shepard. Shaking the thought of him out of her mind, worried it may trigger enough breakdown, she exhaled deeply and returned to work, running a diagnostic to get an update on her progress. Several systems beeped in response, the network running a checklist of functional systems, and cross-checking them with others. So far, all but eight were now functioning at optimal parameters...and those eight were largely non-essential oscillating security blocks, designed to protect against hacking...which, considering the ship's resident AI, wasn't all that necessary.

"All critical systems are now running within minimum parameters," said AI, EDI, announced, glowing holographic icon appearing on the pedestal to her left: her form was represented by a glowing, purple pawn, "At your discretion Tali, Jeff would like to begin running system tests on the engines. He is eager to leave this planet and return to Earth."

"Tell him that as long as he doesn't attempt full thrust, a test should be fine," Tali acknowledged, sighing as she crossed her arms and leaned against the wall, away from her terminal, "The engines were beaten pretty badly, but as we've all said, Cerberus knows... _knew_ how to build ships. They were designed to survive being rammed by a dreadnought and still function, so we'll be good. A low yield thrust, somewhere between one quarter and a half thrust, should do us fine, but we'll be limping back to Earth. We'll have just enough to get offworld, but not enough for FTL. I've done all that I can with the resources I have."

"You've done an exceptional job, Tali," the AI replied, the tone of her voice giving away that she was attempting to cheer up the grief-stricken quarian, "I can think of no other engineer who could have pulled off what you have in such a short span of time, with the limited resources available to you."

It was a compliment. One she would normally appreciate a great deal. When she had first met EDI, her ingrained hatred of artificial intelligence and synthetics had been determined to make her EDI's enemy. But as time went on, she had accepted EDI as just another member of the crew, and by the end, they had become friends. She would never have believed it possible, but it was one of the many things Shepard had changed. She almost smiled at the thought of it.

But at the moment, her mood was too downtrodden and miserable to see it as anything more than appeasement, "I did what I had to do, EDI. To get the _Normandy_ back in the air. To get us off this _fre'eg_ of a planet, and to allow us to link up with the Victory fleet. I'm sure Traynor has almost finished repairing the QEC."

"Specialist Traynor believes the communicator will be ready in just a few minutes," EDI confirmed, her attempts at placation successfully deflected by the engineer, "Crystal refraction rates are nearly 84%. The signal will operate at nearly maximum capacity, and we can divert enough power from the drive core to operate it. We are well within range of Earth, so communicating with Victory fleet shouldn't be difficult."

"If anybody's still alive," she glumly added.

If EDI had opinion on her statement, she didn't comment on it, "Specialist Traynor may require your assistance in the war room. She has asked for your help at the nearest opportunity."

"I'll be right up," she declared, powering down her console as she left engineering, exiting into the aft corridor and quickly hanging a left to call for the elevator. While it travelled down to her, she had plenty of time to glaze blankly at the barren, grey bulkhead, her thoughts allowed to wonder as her overly rational mind searched for more fruitful ruminations to fixate on. Work was all she had left. If she allowed herself even a moment to focus on anything else, she'd collapse. She couldn't risk that. This crew was depending on her. They needed her at her best. Every member of this crew had a task to complete, and she'd be damned if she didn't fullfill her part. Its what Shepard would have wanted.

She sniffed, whimpering as a brief memory flashed before her eyes. Soft sheets. Warm skin. A dab of wetness on her neck as lips pressed against her naked flesh. Two bodies intertwined, rolling around ontop of a soft mattress, the sensation of-

As quickly as it had come, the memory was gone again. She needed to stop doing that. It was distracting. There would be proper time to mourn later...for now, she had work to do. She hadn't even gone to the cabin since they fled Earth...hadn't even been on the same deck. She couldn't handle going back there...too many memories were attached to that place. Just looking at the bed or his desk would draw up evocations she wouldn't recover from. She wouldn't want to leave then. And that would be selfish.

The elevator arrived on her deck, and as she stepped inside and went to tap the Deck 2 icon, she felt her hand pausing. Her finger hovered over the icon for Deck 1, and her mind, in a fleeting moment of weakness, considered hitting that button. Then she shook her head, and lowered her finger to press Deck 2, stepping back, standing tall and hands at her sides as the lift began its rise again. Work to do. A lot of work to do. Once they were safe, once they had escaped...then she would grieve. She would cry. Scream. Thrash around. Whatever it took to vent out these horrible feelings that were collecting inside of her, practically banging at her defenses to be allowed the freedom to burst out into the open. But she couldn't break down infront of her friends. If she did, all she would get is pity.

She didn't want their pity. Or their condolences. She wanted her _neh'seh_ back.

A few minutes passed before the slow elevator (she never understood why something like this would exist on a warship, which requires people to be able to access battle stations and key systems during the stress of battle, which can't be done speedily if you're contending with a lift that only moves slightly faster than a slug) finally reached the CIC, and she stepped out onto the nearly crowded deck. With every crew member on the ship hard at work, the CIC was bustling with more activity than she was used to seeing. The galaxy map was inactive, but the holographic cross-section of the ship showing damaged section was up and running, with many of the repairmen referencing it as they proceeded with their work. Cables lay strewn about, terminals were offline while others were powered up...the ship looked as if it was being retrofitted...and in a way, it was. Retrofitted for one last journey.

Tali had commanded the repair effort: being the chief engineer, and Shepard's most trusted machinist, she was the number one choice for leading the teams put in charge of repairing critical systems; her intricate knowledge of the ship helped as well. This meant that she the exact state of the ship at any given time. She knew the reality. The crash had pummelled the _Normandy_ : that, combined with the electrical damage imposed by the Crucible blast, and the ship was a mess. It was like an code-based EMP had hit the ship, corrupting entire networks while leaving others broken or needing urgent repair. Tali had been relieved to find that life support was thankfully still operational, but the water recycling plant they used to provide unlimited drinkable water and the hibernator pods they used for sleep were all but useless: they had been forced to ration the remaining water left in the ship, and resort to the old fashioned sleep patterns just to survive.

But the worst blow was to the engines: they would do the job to get them to Earth, but they were nowhere near spaceworthy by any galactic starship guidelines. She had been forced to draw most of the energy away from the engines, as the crash had damaged several of the fuel injection lines, meaning that attempting to activate the thrusters as they were would have caused fuel to not only leak out, but for the drive core to overheat and explode, whilst simultaneously flooding engineering with lethal amounts of radiation. The only way to fix it had been to manually repair the fuel lines, and then limit the max engine speed to half thrust. This, along with the buckled hull, the slight but noticeable bend in the ship's superstructure, the inconsistent reliability of the ship's main life support systems, etc. meant the ship would need a significant overhaul once it returned to Earth...if it could even get there without falling apart, as fragile now as it was. It certainly wasn't fit for duty, or any combat situation for that matter.

But, even more likely, the ship would simply be decommissioned and scrapped. It was cheaper to use the materials taken from scrapping the ship than to dedicate an entire team of shipbuilders and military engineers to coaming through it and repairing the endless stream of systems that were compromised, corrupted or outright broken. The cost of gutting and repairing it outweighed the cost of scrapping it and building a new ship from scratch. So, she feared, this would be the _Normandy_ 's last journey...at least for the SR-2 variation.

 _She's a good ship. Sad that both Normandys have to meet such ignominous ends...one destroyed by an enemy it couldn't see, and this one defeated by a crash landing and cost ratios. If this was a quarian ship, I know for certain we'd spend the time to put this ship back into shape. We don't waste resources, especially not ships._

Too many journeys were coming to an end. The _Normandy_. Her's. John's...

She just needed to keep herself composed for a little longer. She had to stay strong. For the crew. For him. It's what he'd want...

Like a machine, she passed through the CIC, ignoring everything else. She passed through the inactive security checkpoint (pointless as it was), and finally entered the war room, walking around the dimmed war table and finally emerging into the communications chamber. It was here that she found Samantha Traynor, the ship's communications specialist, along with two other engineers on their knees next to an opened panel in the wall, an assortment of wires pulled out and dangling as they fixed the power-hungry state-of-the-art interstellar communicator.

One of the engineers immediately noticed the quarian and nudged Traynor with his elbow, causing her to turn in irritation. Upon noticing Tali though, she sat up from where she lay, a confident smile on her lips, "Tali, I think we've got it! This QEC consumes a lot of energy, but I've managed to draw upon some power from non-critical systems, built an ad hoc oscillator to stabilize the energy loop, and I've installed a secondary energy block to supplement the first to make sure that any feedback doesn't completely fry surrounding framework. In other words...we're ready to test it. We can reach out."

Tali nodded, "I'm sure you've heard that, EDI. Inform Ashley and the rest of the crew we're making our first attempt to contact Earth."

"Very well, Tali," EDI replied simply, going silent until the PA system lit up across the ship, relaying Tali's update to the crew. With that done, she turned back to Traynor and gave a simple nod, before kneeling down and helping them reconnect the necessary wires, neatly reposition them inside, and fit the panel back in place with a click. Reaching down a hand to help Traynor stand up, the two of them approached the control panel for the QEC, with Samantha taking a deep breath.

"By all accounts, this should work," Samantha argued, likely to herself more than anybody else, "This device is so bleeding edge that its literally been designed to be foolproof. Its really hard to render this non-functional without ripping out every cable inside it, or leaving it without power. And to think this is basically the technological equivalent of the rachni's biological telepathy is just...amazing. If these devices weren't so expensive and complex to produce, I imagine every ship in the fleet would have-"

"Traynor," Tali interrupted irritatingly, placing a hand on the crewman's shoulder gently and squeezing it reassuringly, "It will work. Only way to find out for sure is to test it."

"Right. You're absolutely right," she babbled, taking a deep breath before exhaling equally deeply. Finally, after a moment, she nodded, "Well...here we go. This device should have the last QEC it linked with, the one in London, still stored as priority in its memory bank. Should be a simple button press. Here we go."

She hit the button, and almost instantly, a lance of blue light the room, finding them and drawing their outline. Within seconds, the QEC had memorized and mapped out their figures and exact specifications, and began transmitting it to the QEC in London, transmitting them in the form of holographic particles in the outlines of their bodies. Meanwhile, the London QEC did the same to them, with ultramarine particles floating around effortlessly as they waited for the device to connect fully. Despite her miserable state, a spark of excitement filled Tali at the sight of it. Samantha's eyes were so wide she thought they might pop out of her skull.

Finally, after only a few seconds, a figure appeared on the communicator: Tali recognized him instantly. The straightened posture, the clasped hands behind his back suggesting a professional and regimented composure, the cap fitted over his head, the sagely beard and steeled expression, and the smooth, eternally groomed and ironed Alliance uniform. Tali knew him the moment she saw him, and Samantha's recognition was represented by a crisp salute. This was the man Shepard admired greatly. The man who had been one of his greatest allies, who had advocated for him before the Reapers came, who had defended his actions to his damnedest.

This was Fleet Admiral Hackett.

"This is Admiral Steven Hackett," the admiral greeted, eying the two of them for a moment before his eyes flickered with the dawning countenance that came with someone who recognized who he was addressing, "Admiral Zorah. Specialist Traynor. We had thought the _Normandy_ destroyed. You have no idea what a win this is going to be for the morale corps."

Tali remained silent, allowing Traynor to speak, "Not destroyed, sir, just repairing. We've been under for just over a month now, but we're getting back on our feet. Tali and I just got this communicator fixed and the engines working at the bare minimum. We'll be on our way to Earth soon."

"We'll have to meet you halfway on that point," Hackett declared, catching the two women's collective attentions, "Give us your location and we'll dispatch a few frigates to tow you back. Your return is a matter of some importance and urgency."

"And why is that, sir?" Tali and Samantha turned to the fourth voice in the room, and found Lieutenant Commander Ashley Williams, black hair tied in a ponytail and clad in her dress blues, walking into the room, a small smile on her lips. Tali could see through it though: she saw the haunted expression in her eyes, and knew the woman shared at least a part of Tali's agony. She stepped between her and Traynor, addressing Hackett directly, "Somebody eager to pin some medals on our chests and send us back to work?"

"That's one way of putting it," Hackett acknowledged. Tali could see a hint of a smile ghosting the right side of her face, and was curious as to what could have made him so amused. His gaze then turned straight to Tali, "In fact, he specifically asked for you, Admiral Zorah. Practically demanded that he be informed the moment you've made contact and I should get you and the rest of his crew back here post-haste."

That confused her for a moment, wondering just who could possibly want to see her so urgently and to the extent of having an admiral waste time sending ships to expedite the peregrination. Then, as she thought about it more and more, there was only one person this would make sense for. Only one person had the authority or commanded the respect to demand things of an admiral of Hackett's stature and get compliance. Only one man would make it a priority to see her. She felt herself go through several stages of denial as it dawned on her.

 _No...but I saw-it can't possibly be..._

Ashley seemed to reach the same conclusion, her eyes opening wide as Tali's hand reached up to her vocalized in shock, "Sir, you can't be talking about who we think you're talking about. We all saw him-"

"-die?" Hackett finished for them, and if the admiral was capable of anything but the utmost stoicism, he probably would have laughed...but instead, he just shook his head, "No, nothing puts this son-of-a-bitch down for longer than a few days, it would seem. Our rescue teams found him underneath several metric tones of rubble while combing the Citadel for our dead. I don't know how he does it...nor do I really care. He was rushed to a hospital the moment we found him, and he woke only a few hours ago demanding to see you. Must be a sign from God that only a few hours after that, you make contact."

Tali was overcome with a haze of emotions...relief, anger, joy, confusion...she didn't know what to feel. On the one hand...Shepard was alive. Her _neh'seh_ lived! She didn't know how, but she honestly didn't care! All that mattered right now was that he survived, and was asking for _her_! She had begged him to come back to her...

...and without even promising her, he had kept that promise all the same. Not even _Harbinger_ could keep him from doing that.

From all of that, one emotion prevailed over the others: determination.

"EDI, tell Joker I'm going to see if I can't get more out of the engines," she ordered, whirling around and leaving the room with more than a little spring in her step. Her zombie-like behaviour from before was gone, replaced by conviction in her every step...a force-of-will that had determined that getting back to her bondmate was now her only priority, her only mission, her only task. And she would move mountains to make that happen. If Shepard had achieved the impossible...twice...so they could be together, the least she could do was repay the favor.

"But I thought you said you couldn't?" Joker replied instead, likely having been listening in to the conversation they were having with Hackett.

"Well..." she laughed to herself, the first she had allowed herself to have in ages, the feeling a welcome respite from the misery she had endured for over a month: it was like being set free, "Let's just say I've had a little more inspiration."

 _I'm coming, John. Just wait for me...I'm coming. Even if I must pick up this ship and drag it with me all the way back to Earth...I'm coming._

* * *

 _A year later._

The dawning Rannochian sun slowly and indecisively climbed over the horizon, its brilliant orange cast blemishing the dry, arid landscape in an explosion of color, the greens and reds of the _P'leh_ savannahs and _mezl'oo_ prairies brought to life as the sun illuminated them all, revealing their existence as the night pulled away the blanket of secrecy it had shrouded over them, protecting them from the terrors of the dark. As the cover was pulled away, the nightlife crawled away to safety while the creatures of the light emerged from their brief hibernations, returning to their biological schedules of hunting, feasting, eating and breeding. Life on Rannoch had been like this for three centuries...uninterrupted tranquility. Civilization stripped from the surface and replaced by a world dominated by its most benign and pure of the planetary animal kingdom.

But on one cliff face, the sun revealed the existence of two figures. Neither were born of this world, but one was a member of a species who had lived on Rannoch for millenia, and had only just regained access to its natural splendor. The other was a foreigner to these lands...a man whose natural habitat rested thousands of light years from here, but whose new home had been decided, making him as much at home here as the woman who rested beside him, legs dangling over the cliff face as they welcomed the morning sun.

Tali'Zorah bathed in the welcome sunlight, closing her eyes and sighing at the feel of the warmth that hit her front on and seemed to leak through her suit. The warmth expelled whatever chill had crept into her, making her feel rejuvenated. It was an unbelievable feeling. And the fact that light belonged to her sun on her world made it all the more electrifying...and ever so special. But what made it truly great...was the person she got to share it with.

A year ago, she had feared that she had lost the one person in the galaxy that mattered more than anything else to her. Then that same man had crawled out from the depths of hell for her, and she had refused to leave his side ever since. It had taken another two weeks to get back to Earth after learning of Shepard's survival, but the trip would have been even longer had she not gotten that blast of inspiration at the last minute. Even light years away...the man had still been inspiring her to do better.

Her legs dangled over the cliff's edge...the very same cliff where she had watched Shepard battle a 300 foot-tall Reaper with nothing but a targeting laser and his wits...and won. It was also the place where she became the first quarian to remove their mask on the homeworld in over three centuries. This place was where history was made.

The two of them remained silent, enjoying the basking rays of Tikkun, her hand entangled in his five-digit appendage. Tearing her gaze away from the sunrise for a moment, she looked up at her bondmate where he sat...and felt a pang of sympathy for the man she loved.

Shepard wasn't the same person physically since he had finished convalescing in that hospital on Earth under eleven months ago. _Harbinger_ 's attack, and his final struggle with the Illusive Man, plus his close proximity to the searing heat of the Crucible's blast, had left him everything but dead. By the time he left that hospital room, his legs were battered to the point where he would need a wheelchair for the next two years. He had lost one of his eyes, with a black eye patch covering the socket. His vocal cords were badly damaged, which meant he could no longer with a loud voice. His cybernetics would occasionally act up and cause him excruciating pain, and to top it off, he would feel physically weak for the next month and a half.

There were a few times where even he was overwhelmed by the nature of it all: during those times, he would quietly sob in her arms while nobody was watching. He openly admitted that there had been a few times he considered disconnecting his own life support and allowing him to pass away peacefully...until he was told by Hackett his crew had made contact and Tali was alive and coming back to Earth. After that, he had refused to die.

"You watching me, or the sunrise?" he wheezed, his voice sounding like he was gasping for air with every word he uttered. After the first few weeks of hearing it, she had finally managed to learn to not jump on the impulse to call a doctor. He would be like this, likely, for the rest of his life.

"I can't watch both?" she joked, pulling herself up to rest on her knees, allowing her head to rest against his shoulder, while her hands grasped one of his idle ones and played with it, "I'm lucky to have either, let alone both. Allow me to enjoy that fact."

He tried to laugh, but found himself groaning in pain when he did it, so he offered a smile instead, holding up another hand to stall her from leaping to help him, "Believe me, I'm not complaining. I'm...still finding it a bit difficult to grasp myself. The reality of where we are. What we're doing."

She sighed happily, "We made it. We actually made it. We can rest now... _you_ can rest."

He hesitated in his response for a moment, cocking a head at her before shaking his head.

"No..." he rasped, reaching over to sandwich her hand between both of hers, "...I've still got one more job. A promise...to keep."

She knew what he meant. She had only made him promise one thing to her: to come back alive. To survive the Reapers and make sure they got out of it in one piece. He succeeded. But there was one promise that Shepard had vowed to keep...one he had inherited from her long-deceased father...one he was adamant about seeing all the way through. He wanted to build her a house on her homeworld.

She had told him it was a promise that was impossible to keep: the geth had control of her homeworld, which nullified his ability to keep it. But then a year later...and not only has he ended a three century-long war, but he had liberated the quarian homeworld. Now his promise was a real possibility: it could actually be done. And despite all of that, he had remembered that promise all the way through. He used it to push himself forward, to keep going...it was as much a reason to live as any.

But with the war over and the full extent of Shepard's injuries made known, both of them knew it would be truly impossible for him to build the house himself in his current state. He couldn't even stand up or lift an arm, and with only one eye and damaged vocal cords, he didn't have the best visibility or calling tone either. But he still had refused to back down: as soon as his basic motor functions were restored, he swore to begin construction...even if his role was limited to project supervisor, he would do it. For her.

She would get her dream house. It would just take a little time. And in truth...she was fine with that. Because in reality, her home was already here: sitting beside her, holding her hands. She had a home all along.

The two remained for a little while longer, enjoying the sunrise together for the first time since their new lives began. No more Reapers. No more war. No more missions. No more death. Just them. Nothing could separate them any longer. And despite Shepard's injuries, she would never leave his side. She was his bondmate...and he was hers. Together, they had pushed through insurmountable odds to bask in their new future...together. As one.

And whatever the future threw at them...they would tough it out...a union of one. Like they had always done.

The house could wait.

She had everything she needed...right here.

Somewhere in the distance...a _qui'tee_ sang happily.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_

 _ **...bet you weren't expecting to get your prompts so soon, eh? Guess that's what happens when you have left over inspiration from the latest EQC chapter to dispense with. As always, I hope you enjoyed the delivery of your two prompts, and that the combined format worked for you. It seemed to flow well from how I see it, but as the prompter, you're the one who decides that. Let me know what you think in the reviews!**_

 _ **Up next is Chapter 10 of EQC!**_

 _ **Until then,**_

 _ **Keelah se'lai, troopers!**_


	17. Snapshot 16: Do Unto Others

_**This prompt is...again, by an unnamed guest who I can't identify. If you are that guy and you're still reading these prompts I put out, here you go. This one was a bit difficult to decipher due to how the prompter wrote their request, but I got the general gist from it and, as such, this prompt has a somewhat darker tone in comparison to the ones I've been doing more recently. So here you go...enjoy.**_

* * *

His heavy boots clicked on the concrete as he approached the door, his featureless black cap, with some brand he couldn't care to remember at the moment plastered along the front, casting a shadow over his eyes and thickset, non-regulation beard. The door ahead of him was the typical haptic interfaced automatic slider doors that had thoroughly replaced the swing doors of old in almost every corner of the galaxy that had seen fit to embrace the modern technological age, which was currently flashing a bright red to signify it was locked.

This did not deter him. _Nothing_ would deter him this evening.

The artifical sun of the Citadel shone brightly above him, his neck burning from the sensation of its illusory rays casting him. He was walking down an alleyway, the evidence strewn throughout his path: the stench of refuse, murky green and brown liquid trailing down the alley, grime and filth caking the walls, the occasional snore as he passed by homeless citizens asleep amongst all the mess. In broad daylight, he was perfectly safe, but at the dead of night, the scum of the world lay in wait, ready to shaft and rob whatever poor person was foolish enough to risk a shortcut home.

Along the alleyway path were doors...back exits that led into the back of numerous stores that lined the commercial district of the Tayseri Ward. But there was only one door he was interested in...and he had just arrived outside of it, the door's discoloration and the film of scungy, bacterially infested decay allowing it to blend in with the rest of its locale. A single sign hung over the door, leaning slightly to the left of its horizontal axis, both of the lights that lit it up to attract potential customers blown or broken. Graffiti in an assortment of different languages covered the door, the sign and the walls around it, finishing the perfect, stereotypical picture of a rundown, poorly maintained street.

The sign was in German, as it was a Germanic restuarant. It read 'Deutsches Bistro auf der Zitadelle'. Thanks to the universal translator built it into his omni-tool, the English translation was fed directly into his brain at the same moment he finished reading it. It, literally, said 'German Bistro on the Citadel.' Not a wholly original name, but it worked. Normally, he'd be all for stuffing his face with bratwurst, apfelkuchen, Hendl, you name it...along with a nice pint of locally sourced beer. But he was not here hunting for places to dine...if he had wanted to do that, he'd go through the front door.

He tapped the earpiece fitted into his right ear once, before then approaching the door, readjusting his shirt as he did. Quickly reaching the door, he knocked on its surface three times, his gloved fingers saving him the effort of washing his hands after touching the revolting object. He waited a few moments, listening for signs of movement, before he heard a voice, tinged with a heavy Czech accent, speaking through the door, "What do you want? If you want food, the door is at the front. This is for staff only."

He closed his eyes for a moment, mentally travelling back to the days he spent in basic. One of his best friends in training, a German by the name of August Essig who originated from the German colony on New Hamburg, had caught him mimicking his accent one day and had jokingly called him out on it, calling him 'a dirty Aussie'. He then offered to teach him some German, and even properly mimick a proper German accent...which, ironically, had helped Shepard in getting one of his first girlfriends in the service when Essig took him on shore leave to Frankfurt, Germany. He called upon that memory now, wanting to sound as authentic to the man as possible. Apparently, these people were big on national purity, and if they heard even a bit of his light Aussie accent, it'd be over.

Well, for the stealthy way anyway.

Opening his eyes, he spoke in his best imitation of a Germanic accent, while also speaking what little German he could remember, " _Will sich den Soldaten des vierten Reiches anschlieben. Das der ort?_ "

That got his attention. The door shot open quicker than you could blink, holo interface evaporating into thin air as the two sheets of metal parted and gave way. There to greet him past their threshold was a tall, brute of a man: if he had been anyone else, he might have been intimidated by the Czech man's dense array of muscle. Numerous tattooes followed from his wrists up to his shoulder blades, all of them representative of his ideology. As was typical of men of his caliber, his head was devoid of a single hair, instead replaced by yet another, large tattoo that covered the back of his head, this one that of an eagle. His thick eyebrows and glassy, dead gaze all conflated to paint a dark, unredeeming picture of this man and his activities. His arms were crossed, and as he did this, the upper collar of his shirt parted, exposing the one tattoo that he not only hated seeing...but made his blood boil.

A swastika, as clear as day.

He had thought scum such as these had died when humanity made first contact with the turians. After all, such notions of a 'master race' surely would have been dashed when the human race discovered it wasn't the only kid on the block anymore. Instead, the Neo-Nazis had simply reformed their ideology, giving birth to a new form known as 'Post-contact reformed Neo-Nazism', which heralded white humans as the superior species in the galaxy. The sheer idiocy and evil nature of it all was unbelievable, but even less believable was that he wanted to join them.

Or, at least, he had them believing that. But his motives today couldn't have been further from that.

The man grinned smugly, not at all afraid to display the surreptiously frowned upon imagery that he kept permanently etched into his skin, proud of his beliefs and the people he inherited them from, "You a marine? You look like one. I served in the marines too. The European marines, that is. Fuck those Alliance pigs. They've forgotten what it is to be human. Have you remembered?"

The words were like acid in his mouth...words that had meanings he didn't subscribe to, that he would sooner rip his own tongue out than ever utter them. But he kept focused. Soon, he told himself, he would make them pay for what they've done. He mustered a smile, trying to make it look as sincere as possible, "I remember. Word on the street is the SDVR has gotten bold. I hear a quarian was in the wrong place, at the wrong time."

The man chuckled, which he initially mistook for a belch, and spittle flew from his mouth, revealing the gold insert positioned at the back of his teeth, "The suit-rat got what she deserved. Would have gotten more creative, if her little mechanized pet didn't come and save her."

"Is that so?" he offered, inwardly feeling his fists clench and unclench as they fought to keep his anger restrained and chained for the right moment. He stepped forward, nodding, "I was...intrigued by your work on the quarian. Surely the SDVR has more important things to do than targetting little vagrants."

The man narrowed his eyes, and for a second he thought he had been found out, that he had noticed some quip that betrayed his ulterior motive, and began reaching down to his hip, but the man just laughed again, shaking his head, "Gutfreund does what Gutfreund wants. He noticed the little xeno slut walking down the alleyway, so he got a few of the men together to teach her a lesson. We aryan brothers have to keep together, and show these xenos who is the real master race. One day, a new Reich will rise...and when it does, we, the _Soldaten des vierten Reiches_ , will be there to serve it. And then we'll kill every fucking xenos scumbag we come across. The quarian bitch was just another casualty."

He nodded, stepping forward and reaching out his hand to shake the other man's, "We humans have got to stick together, right?"

The man became serious, reaching down and accepting the offered hand, shaking it firmly with a solid grip, "What's your name, friend?"

Suddenly, without warning, he used the grip to pull him forward roughly, with his other hand reaching down to his back, lifting his shirt up in the process, allowing him to grab what rested behind it, tucked behind his pants. He rested his head near the man's ear, his voice a harsh whisper, tinged with remorseless venom and seething hatred, but not of the kind this filth had expected, nor wanted.

"I'm Commander Shepard," he hissed, dropping his German accent at the same time, causing the man's eyes to widen in horror, "And her name...is _Tali_."

He never got a chance to yell in alarm. Whipping out the M-3 Predator pistol he had tucked behind his shirt, he pressed the barrel into the man's sternum and pulled the trigger twice. The two loud bangs most certainly alerted anybody else that was inside the building, but at this point, all he could see was red. The man moaned feebly, his pathetic whimper of distress going unheard as Shepard walked him inside, waited for the door to close, and then unceremoniously dumped his corpse onto the floor, blood pooling around where the body was left.

"Shepard, wait for-" he tore the earpiece out from his ear, tossing it off to the side as he marched forward, discarding the barely used clip from the weapon, pulling a fresh one from the ammo pouch attached to the side of his pants and slapping it into the slot, waiting for it to click into the chamber. With nothing but contempt oozing from his expression, unfiltered rage unleashed and coursing through his veins, Shepard could no longer perceive the world around him. All he knew was one thing.

He was going to kill them all. Every single fucking one.

Having moved through the back exit, he knew the main kitchen for the bistro musn't be too far away: no doubt that was where most of the SDVR's men would be lingering. Given the noise he just made killing their doorman, there was no doubt they wouldn't just be lingering for very long. Steeled for the task that lay ahead of him, his march became firmer, and he raised his pistol, keeping it eye level so he could aim down the sights. He stormed through the storage room, finding the kitchen's entrance just around the corner.

Another SDVR thug was already rounding the corner, but apparently hadn't thought to equip the crappy, illegal mimick of his own pistol, and only got to watch with wide eyes as Shepard put a bullet straight through his skull, the small, kinetic slug punching straight through his temple, leaving a small hole, but splashing blood all over the floor, and the back wall. His momentum carried him forward, thumping to the ground. Shepard marched over him, rounding the corner to find his friend, who had noticed the body and was in the middle of crying out in alarm, reaching for his own pistol, which was lying next to a stove beside him. Shepard, with the speed and precision that only came from years of combat experience and his special forces training, sent another projectile through the man's hand, stopping him from grabbing his weapon, before turning and double tapping him in the chest.

Shepard, in his adrenaline rush, had failed to account for a third bogey just around the corner to his left, leaning back in a chair. He launched forward from his chair, charging forward to tackle Shepard against the wall. The larger man successfully managed to pin the soldier against a wall, his other hand keeping the pistol aimed away from him. He yelled out to his team, believing that he had the upperhand. But he had severely underestimated the fury that the spectre had fueling him, and the cybernetic augmentations Cerberus had planted throughout his body.

Snarling like a rabid dog, his head shot forward into the head of the man pinning him, turning into a powerful bludgeon. The cap he was wearing did little to slow his momentum, and his skull hit the other man's with a loud thump that left both men reeling...but Shepard less so. Hissing through the throbbing pain of the bruise developing on his forehead, he used his freed up left hand to strike the man in his exposed throat. He wheezed, making the mistake of letting Shepard go to grasp his injured neck.

He realized that mistake too late. Shepard pulled his pistol back, hugged it closely to his chest, and let three shots pop off into his belly, blood out of the wounds and all over his own chest. Kicking his body aside, he ducked his head as four more SDVR gangmen ran into the kitchen, firing off their weapons. He took cover behind a bench, checked his ammo, found he had five rounds left, and waited. He wouldn't have time to reload, so he'd have to get imaginative. Not a problem.

He was in a kitchen full of potential creativites.

Waiting for a pause in the gunfire, and hearing the telltale sounds of footsteps approaching on his right, he readied himself. Seeing the shadow arrive just around the bend, he lay down on his side, aimed his pistol just under the part of the bench that was slightly raised above the ground by metal legs, found the approaching man's foot, and fired.

A scream of pain. A blur of movement. A grunt. Another gunshot. A body tumbles to the ground, lifeless, blood draining from a hole through the top of his head.

" _Wer zum Teufel ist dieser Kerl!?_ " one of them shouted as they watched their comrade so meticulously slaughtered.

More approached, but this time they came in a pair: they were learning, but it wouldn't be enough to defeat him. Taking their time and checking their corners with broad sweeps of their pistols, Shepard readed his weapon and waited for a break in their search. Once the two had begun checking their left and right, he sprinted forward. His movement was so quick the two men didn't even have a chance to make a sound, Shepard double tapping both of them as he ran past, shoving their not-quite-cold bodies aside as he moved past them, his one-man assault treated more like an irritating marathon than a life-or-death situation.

These men didn't stand a chance.

Passing through the preparation area, he quickly came across the cooking area. He didn't have time to reload his weapon before another thug came blitzing from his periphery, slapping the pistol from Shepard's grip before sending a haymaker straight towards his face. Quick as a flash, he raised his left arm to block it, and quickly sent his right into his nose. There was a sickening crack, cartiledge shattering and blood practically exploding from the gangman's nostrils as he, stunned, was sent stumbling back. Teeth gritted and his eyes likely evoking the expression of someone who looked insane, he reached towards the bench, grabbed the biggest blade he could, and swung it at his throat. More blood, geysering across the floor, the man's pathetic groan, followed by desperate gurgles, all the sound he made before collapsing, Shepard advancing through the sticky, growing pool.

The next assailant was different: this one wore a chef's white uniform and hat, likely because the SDVR owned the restuarant, or at least the people who did own it. His initial assessment didn't see him as a threat, but when the man lashed out with a knife, that assessment turned lethal quickly. He whipped his head back to avoid the slashing blade, taking a few seconds to watch him, his crazed look and terrified posture showing that he was merely fending off a creature he had no chance of defeating. Good.

He slashed again, overextending himself. Shepard took advantage of this, and instead of dashing away, he stepped forward, head tilting just enough to avoid the blade while allowing him to wrap his arm fully around the man's extended arm. He quickly found his elbow, put all his weight into the bottom, and then suddenly and violently wrenched upwards. An audible snap, followed by a screech of agony, confirmed that the damage he aimed for was complete, and without so much as a wayward glance, he slammed the knife as deep as he could into the man's stomach, and left it there. He then released the man, leaving him to die on the floor, the massive blade likely severing vital arteries and veins, meaning its removal would surely kill him.

The next three were also feeling particularly brave: all of them wielded wicked looking blades, their serated edges glinting in the bright light of the room, all of their eyes desperate to draw blood. He simply stood there, analyzing their gesticulations and stances, quickly ascertaining their most likely strengths, whilst locking onto their weaknesses. His eyes subtly peaked towards the stove that rested on his immediate left: what he found were a few frying pans, most of them caked in what looked to be remnants of cooked food, while a huge pot of spaghetti (an odd discovery in a German restuarant) doused in boiling hot water sat bubbling on top. Figuring out what he had, he formulated a battle plan in the few short seconds that the three men surrounded him.

One of them sneered, confident of his supposed superior position, "I don't know who the fuck you are, but you've made a big mistake, you prick."

"Yeah, you're going to die," the other parroted.

The third decided to add one final touch, "And then we'll mail you in pieces to whoever the fuck cares about you, and they'll know in your last moments, that you were a worthle-"

Distracted by their monologuing and slew of self-indulgent insults, none of the men had figured out the situation as well as Shepard did. Before the third one could finish broadcasting his exact motives, Shepard had snatched up the nearest pan, and swung with all his might. The result was a large metal pan, swinging at high speed, straight into the talking man's open mouth. This would have hurt enough on its own, but to be cybernetically augmented...the results were disastrous for the mouthpiece of a thug. Blood flew in all directions as his teeth were smashed to pieces, breaking and shattering in his mouth. His nose broke upon impact, and to make matters worse, the pan had been sitting on a stove for minutes on end...meaning it was still hot. The man screamed as the skin of his face was burned, and he flew back from the impact of the blow.

The two men were in shock from the sudden assault on their comrade, but the first one was the first to have the initiative to strike back. He lashed out with his knife, aiming for the spectre's throat. What he got instead was the pan as Shepard brought it back and used it to deflect the blade, which pinged harmlessly off, and jarred the thug's wrist due to throwing all his weight into the shank. Shepard then raised a foot and slammed it straight into his chest, sending him flying back with what sounded like a cracked rib. He then turned his attention to his second adversary.

This one had gotten his shit together pretty quick, and reacted quicker than Shepard could. By the time he noticed the blade coming, he only had enough time to strafe, the knife glazing his side and causing him to wince as blood left with it. His enemies had finally drawn their enemy's blood.

They wouldn't get a drop more.

The injury only served to enrage Shepard more, using the pan to bash the man's arm aside, causing him to drop the knife and grasp his maimed arm. Shepard, using his superior strength, then grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, dragged him across the kitchen, raised his head, and allowed his eyes to lock onto his demise for a mere moment.

The thug's eyes widened in terror, "Wait, no, please, we can-"

Shepard wasn't listening. He thrusted the SDVR man's head straight into the boiling bot of water, his cry for help cut off by a loud hiss as cold, cool skin was introduced to water past its boiling point.

The first two men were still dazed, but the first one's injuries were moderate enough that he quickly rolled to his feet, only to watch Shepard holding his friend's head into a boiling pot. Shepard fixed him with a look of pure malice, and let the man go he had restrained go, who had already gone limp due to him falling unconscious due to the immense pain. His body flopped to the floor, face left unrecognizable to it now being dotted with lobster-red, blistering skin and blackened flesh.

Likely deluded by an idea of glorious vengeance, the fool launched himself forward, fist plowing forward. That was a mistake.

Shepard raised the pan infront of his face. A loud bang was heard, followed by breaking bones. Blinded by adrenaline, the man hardly noticed until it was too late, having brought himself into range of Shepard once more. He raised his knee, cracking another rib in the thug's body while also causing a mass expulsion of air from his lungs. Winded and unable to stand back up, he could do nothing as Shepard brought the pan back down ontop of his head, knocking him to the ground. But he didn't stop. He continued hitting him. And hitting him. And hitting. And hitting. And hitting. And _hitting._

Another unrecognizable face.

The third man was beyond help at this point. His entire mouth was a bloody mess, shattered fragments of teeth and his misshapen nose illustrating the man's helpless state. He could only moan in terror as he watched Shepard approaching him with the bloody pan in one hand, having witnessed the total decimation that had just occurred to his colleague's face.

He quickly joined him. Shepard left the kitchen, pan dropping to the floor, and on his way out, swiped up the pistol left on the bench by the arrogant, now-dead, men and checked to make sure it was loaded before continuing out of the kitchen, into the dining area.

The lack of resistance on his way there proved that they were waiting for him, and had likely had all available guns pointed to the door, waiting to tear him apart the moment he stepped through. So he didn't.

Having prepared for this possibility, he quickly reached into another pouch on his right and produced an XM45 Umbra visor, quickly slotting it over the top of his head, adjusting the strap. The Umbra night vision goggles were fielded by all major Alliance military special ops, and Shepard, being a former N7, and just happened to own a pair. And he just figured it would come in handy in a situation like this...especially one that required an action such as the one he was about to perform.

And that brings him to his next trick.

Waiting patiently around the corner, he brought up his omni-tool and ran through a few of the functions before finally coming across an application that made him hesitate for a moment. His breath caught in his throat, taking a few seconds to contemplate what he was about to do. He knew it was for the right reasons, but at the same time, it still felt like a betrayal...just being here felt like breaking a promise.

But he would not stop now. He had come too far, spilled too much blood, to have second thoughts. No, these bastards needed to die. Justice had to be done.

"This one's for you, Tali."

The function was a program Tali had come up with, and one she had insisted on being added to his omni-tool as part of a running joke regarding his uselessness in regards to technology: after all, she was the engineer for a reason. The program was simple and easy to use, and utilized a basic hacking function...part of said function was the ability to tap into wireless power junctions, and one such thing nowadays was...you guessed it, power boxes. It didn't take him long to find the restuarant's own one. Of course, power could only be shut off by hitting the switches on the junction directly, but this program would interrupt the power just long enough for him to eliminate any hostiles in that room and secure the man he was after: their leader.

Pistol in one hand, he took one final breath, smothered his rage, called upon his most basic marksman skills, and tapped the button.

Darkness blanketed the entire building. But for Shepard, all he saw was bright green. He moved.

Silent as a cat, but as relentless as a fox, his pistol came out and he was aiming down the sights immediately. In the room, he immediately made out the confused outlines of eleven hostiles, nine wielding pistols while the other two were armed with Katana shotguns, with one man seated down at a table, also holding a pistol, which rested ontop of the table, his demeanour lackadaisial and rather blase about the whole situation. That changed with the power outage. Shepard didn't give them a chance to find understanding, and acted.

Eleven gunshots were heard, but not a single one came from the thugs. Eleven bodies, almost like dominoes, collapsed one by one, heads snapping back and weapons falling to the ground, having never fired a round. All that was left was the man seated at the table, and all he could do was watch as the shadow that had so easily dispatched his private army waltzed over, grabbed the pistol from his relaxed grip, and stood back. Moments later, like a rehearsed scene, the power came back on, revealing the dead bodies that lay about the room, one confused Neo-Nazi leader, and a pissed off commander, his pistol, containing one last bullet, aimed directly at him.

"Who the-?" Gutfreund, the SDVR leader and the last man left in the entire building that wasn't Shepard. He looked him up and down, watching with furious disgust as Shepard removed his goggles, setting back in his pouch, "What the fuck do you want? Do you have any clue who I am, _flachwichser_?"

"Yes," Shepard replied bluntly, not allowing any doubt of the pure disdain he held for the man before him to exist, "And I don't give a shit. You're nothing to me. A small fish in a big fucking pond."

"Who do you think you are, bursting in here and killing my men like this?" Gutfreund demanded.

"Think hard, Gutfreund," Shepard patronizingly ordered, "I know its not a Nazi's strong suit, but think long and hard. You and your goons hurt someone very close to me. That was mistake number one. Then you gloated about it, which made it that much easier to find you. That was mistake number two."

Gutfreund just shrugged casually, "I've killed lots of 'people'. Most of them non-Aryans or xenos scum. Don't care to remember half of them."

"Her name is Tali'Zorah vas Normandy," he hissed, stepping forward until the barrel of his gun was pressed against the man's cranium, "She's a quarian. Your men stalked her, ambushed her, and tortured her. You broke every bone in her legs, and then left her with just enough suit ruptures to kill her. You fucked with the wrong quarian."

Gutfreund just grinned, "So I tortured a nobody suit-rat. Why should I care?"

"Because that quarian has powerful fucking friends, you Nazi cunt," he elaborated, intriguing the German, if the eyebrow raise was anything to go by, "She's part of a team of hardened killers. Subject Zero. A tank bred krogan supersoldier. A geth infiltrator. A former STG officer. Archangel himself. The Shadow Broker. The list goes on. But you know where it ends? With _me._ Because as important as she might be to that group of people, no one values her, loves her, more than me, _Commander fucking Shepard_."

He leaned forward his voice but a harsh whisper at this point, hybridized with a vicious roar, "Ring a bell, asshole?"

If Gutfreund could have shit himself, he probably would have...right there. Sweat poured down his face at this revelation, and the sheer look of 'I fucked up' in his eyes was enough to tell Shepard that the man didn't have a clue who or what he was fucking with.

"I-I-I've already called C-Sec!" he stated in a desperate attempt to save his life, hoping to spook his would-be killer into leaving, "They're on their way! They'll be here any minute! You can't kill me!"

Shepard just shook his head, "I'm a Council Spectre. You're a write off."

He pulled the trigger.

* * *

 _Forty minutes earlier..._

"Where is she!?"

He practically dashed through the airlock, barking at EDI to override the decontamination procedure simply to get through faster. He was through the doors the moment they initially parted, almost tripping on the grating of the deck in his haste. Most of the flight deck and CIC was absent, as all of the crew were supposed to be on shore leave or receiving psychiatric treatment for what they suffered on the Collector Base, with only Joker remaining at his station in the cockpit, playing video games on his console while sipping a lemonade, the glass balanced perfectly beside him. The pilot's attention however wasn't fixed on the video game he was playing at that moment.

For the crew, a far more pressing issue was at hand.

Joker faced him, brow creased in worry at the distraught and panicked look on Shepard's face, "She was taken straight to the med bay once they got her here. If you move now, you might see her before Doctor Chakwas begins surgery."

"Thanks Joker," he hurriedly acknowledged before sprinting down the flight deck, his goal focused on the elevator. Once he reached it and was inside, he virtually slammed the button for Deck 3, pacing back and forth in ever surmounting misery as he tried to not allow his thoughts to linger too badly in what he imagined was happening to the woman he loved right now.

The entire day had been normal. Pretty ordinary, actually. What preceeded it was far from quotidian, however: the _Normandy_ had returned to the Citadel battered and bruised, but largely no worse for wear. The crew had successfully survived a suicidal assault into the galactic core to rescue their crewmates and destroy the Collectors, and had escaped with no casualties. They had achieved the impossible, but it had left them thoroughly drained and emotionally capped. Shepard had immediately granted shore leave to the entire crew, while their friend Liara, now the Shadow Broker, used her nearly limitless funds to pay for the _Normandy_ 's repair fees whilst on the Citadel, getting them access to a high end dock. She said it was the least she could do since she couldn't have joined them.

Shepard and Tali's relationship was blossoming. The two had feelings for each other ever since the Eden Prime conflict and the Saren incident, but neither had acted on those feelings, and had believed it too late when Shepard died over Alchera. But then he came back two years later, and while it took a while, he had decided he wasn't going to allow his second chance to go unanswered. The two spent what little time they had together before the Base, believing it would be a one-way trip. When it wasn't, Tali wasn't sure where they stood.

Shepard decided to fix that. He had arranged for both of them to have lunch at a levo/dextro restuarant on the Zakera Ward as a proper first date, allowing them to explore their options better and see what they had to work with. They both wanted this relationship to work, and both of them had the passion and love to make it do just that. Shepard had gone to meet with one of the project managers overseeing the _Normandy_ 's repairs, while Tali went out to procure some spare parts from a machine shop for her damaged combat drone. They had promised to meet at said restuarant when they were both done.

Shepard had gone there, and waited. Minutes passed, and still nothing. Before he could call her, Garrus called him. And the news he had heard sent him sprinting as fast as he could back to the _Normandy_.

The elevator doors opened as he arrived on Deck 3, and he wasted no time in correcting his course and heading on a hard left, making a beeline straight for the med bay. To his surprise, he found Legion standing outside the main door, almost like a sentry on watch duty, its geth pulse rifle and Black Widow rifle stowed on its back. Garrus stood just infront of him, looking just as worried as Shepard did, watching the door almost as if he was waiting for something to happen. The door's interface was red, signalling it was locked.

Tali was behind the door. He must see her.

He quickly approached Garrus, who finally noticed the approaching man out of his periphery, and turned to face him, "They brought her in a few minutes ago. Chakwas is checking her injuries now. Nothing that requires sterilization yet, but she wants to begin surgery as soon as possible."

"What the fuck happened?," he asked desperately, not wanting to imagine his quarian engineer struggling in agony. He didn't want to imagine what might happen to her, and the very idea of her dying simply wouldn't register in his mind. Not after all they went through. She _couldn't_ die here, "You said Tali was in a critical condition and had to be rushed back to the ship for treatment?"

He nodded, "She...was attacked, Shepard. She had gone to the Gears 'n' Tears machine shop and was on her way back when...she said she was ambushed by sixteen, tattooed human men carrying bats and metal poles. All she had was her sidearm, and they attacked her before she could draw it. She did what she could, but they overwhelmed her pretty quickly. They broke her legs, one of her arms, nearly smashed her visor...and then they began torturing her. Kicking her repeatedly, hurling racist slurs at her...then one of them seemed to refer to themselves as an Aryan, whatever that is."

That caught Shepard's attention, snapping him out of the miserable list of atrocities committed against his partner. Each one was like a fresh wound being torn open, but the mention of an 'Aryan' had snapped him out of that almost immediately, "Aryan?"

"Yeah," Garrus returned, "Any idea what that is? Given their humans, I thought it might be some human thing I know nothing about."

Shepard hissed, finding his fists clenching with poorly concealed anger, "Neo-Nazi filth, that's who. Remnants of an era in human history I thought had been left well behind us, and I never thought I'd have a run in with them. And Tali...my god..." his growing anger quickly gave way to his melancholy again, his emotions swinging back and forth like a yoyo. He couldn't stop thinking about the pain she must be in, and how much he wanted to hurt the people who did this to her.

"I need to see her," it wasn't an order, more like a statement of fact, "I need to...to know..."

The interface turned green as the door opened, Doctor Chakwas walking out and allowing the door to close behind her. She removed the sterile plastic gloves she had been wearing, along with the helmet to the sterile medisuit she was wearing. The suit was far too big for her form, but allowed her to work on unsuited quarians without fear of bringing foreign bacteria into the room. The door's interface turned blue, a cycling bar running in a cycle to denote the room was being decontaminated again, "Shepard, I'm going to give you the good news, because I know you could use some right now. Tali's injuries, while horrific, are treatable. I've recalled my entire medical staff and told them to prepare for immediate surgery, and to brush up on their quarian physiology. Mordin apparently never left the ship, so I've called him down to help us: his knowledge will benefit us greatly. The surgery will take a few hours, but I have high hopes that Tali will survive. It will be a close one, though."

He nodded, "And...the bad news?" He didn't want to hear it, but he knew he needed to. He needed the reality.

Chakwas sighed, sympathy clouding her eyes, "She's had open air exposure for at least fifteen minutes. On the _Normandy_ , I wouldn't be as worried, because spaceborne vessels are often the cleanest environments one can encounter. But she spent most of that time on the Citadel, and while space stations are also pretty clean, she was unfortunately found in one of the dirtiest parts of it. She was edging on anaphylactic shock when she was brought here, and I had to put her under because the seizures it was causing was putting severe stress on already broken bones. It doesn't help that she was already running a fever beforehand, the result of which I can only guess, and with that in mind, I'm doing everything I can to keep her alive. If she pulls through, it will be a miracle. But luckily for you, I think up miracles over breakfast. We can do this, John."

Chakwas rarely used his first name, and when she did, it was when she was acting all motherly and giving him advice: he knew this, because she had done so when he asked for advice on how to tell Tali how he felt about her. The doctor reached up and grasped his arm, holding it gently and comfortingly.

 _I know how she got that fever...she got it from me. From us being together..._

He nodded, patting her hand appreciatively, "I...want to see her, Karin. Just for a few minutes. I just want to see her, talk to her."

Chakwas nodded, understanding, "She's awake, for now. However, I have her on just enough morphine and other pain medication to keep her from overdosing, while also numbing the pain she's in. She's delirious, but she's approachable. Just don't take too long...as soon as my staff arrive, I want to begin surgery straight away. Her life depends on my timeliness."

"I understand," he admitted, nodding down to her suit, "Do I need one?"

"Yes," she confirmed, walking him over to a storage locker on the side of the med bay and inputting her code to open it. Swinging it open, she pulled out the lone white and gold medisuit that sat there, and handed it out to him, "Put this on. It'll keep you from bringing anymore harmful bacteria and foreign matter into that room that could potentially injure her. The med bay will automatically spray you with decon spray once you stepped inside. I've activated the decontamination suite. Its as close to a clean room as we'll get on this ship."

It took him a few minutes for Chakwas to outfit him with the suit, going over him three times to ensure every single seal was set: missing even one could lead his own body to effectively kill Tali with its presence. Once he was finally ready, the suit feeling like he had climbed inside a saggy balloon, he stepped into the med bay, standing still for a few seconds as he was sprayed thoroughly with disinfectant spray. Once the process was complete, he turned to the nearest bed, and approached with care, feeling like his very presence was an intrusion.

He had never seen Tali in this light before. Her envirosuit lay in a heap ontop of Chakwas' desk, more than likely removed in a hurry: as such, the windows were tinted to protect the quarian's privacy. She was effectively naked, nothing but a white sheet to cover up her nude form, with the sheet resting above her breasts. Shepard had only seen her like this once before, and that was prior to hitting the Collector Base...when they made love for the first time. She looked just as beautiful as she had then, her black hair resting at her shoulders and glowing eyes captivating him almost immediately. Her smooth grey skin was easy on the eyes, and the roadmap of markings that were seemingly inked into her flesh provided an exotic, alien-like mystique to her.

But she was anything but graceful at the moment. Even under the sheet he could see that her legs rested at unnatural angles, and that her left arm was bandaged heavily, kept in a cradle until it could be operated on. Her head lolled back and forth, drool dripping from her lips, the quarian muttering khelish words underneath her breath that he couldn't understand a word of. She truly was mentally incoherent, and it pained him to see it.

He approached gently and carefully, not wanting to alarm her in the state she was in. She quickly locked onto the new visitor, but one her eyes found his transparent mask and saw the person behind it, recognition could be seen as she raised her right, unmaimed hand, waiting for his. He took it, grasping it firmly and not wanting to let go.

"Hey," he whispered, using a nearby stool to sit down beside her, "You're going to be alright. Doctor Chakwas says your injuries are nothing an operation won't fix. You'll be fine, yeah? Mordin and Doctor Chakwas will get you back on your feet in no time, just you watch."

"John..." she muttered, clearly wanting for him to get closer. He did so, and watched as she reached up steadily, groaning in pain as her bruised and battered ribcage screamed in protest at the action, and pressed her lips against his mask, trying to kiss him through it, she then whispered, "Don't...those men...don't try and...kill them...let it go..."

He frowned, shaking his head, "No, Tali. Those Neo-Nazi pieces of shit have to pay for what they've done to you. Look at what they did to you...they left you dying in an alleyway. You owe them nothing but your hatred. I must make this right." _She's delirious. Not thinking straight, Chakwas said. She can't mean what she's saying._

She shook her head in disagreement, not seeing his point, "There's...no point. I need you...to promise me...you won't...retaliate...let it go, John...please..." she began to weep silently, trying to hide the 'shame' of her misery as she wiped away the tears before they could properly form in her eyes.

He felt so helpless, watching her break down like this. But he felt even more helpless knowing that the woman he cared the most about was telling him to resist the urge to hunt down and murder the very people responsible for putting her in this position to begin with. It was an impossible promise for her to ask of him, yet he found he couldn't say 'no' to her when she was like this...

"I promise," he sighed, giving in after a few moments.

Minutes later, he stepped out of the med bay. He removed the medisuit, handing it over to one of Chakwas' surgeons. After a moment, he approached Garrus and Legion, watching as Chakwas' team of surgeons suited up in their medisuits, including Mordin, and then walked, one by one, into the med bay, the door cycling blue until finally turning red, signifying a surgery was in progress. He remembered Chakwas' parting words to him as she stepped inside, and the look of concern on her face, "Don't worry, Shepard. She's going to pull through this."

Shepard turned to Garrus, hands in his pockets as he spoke, "Who...who found her? You said she was found in an alleyway? Did she call for help?"

Garrus turned to Legion for a second, before addressing the question at hand, "That was Legion, actually. Apparently it'd been monitoring her vital signs whilst she was out, and when it saw them fluctuating, it thought she was in trouble. Assholes must have been scared shitless seeing a geth sprinting at them, screeching its head off, so they ran. Legion then practically rushed Tali back here. I...can't believe I'm saying this, but Tali wouldn't be with us right now if it wasn't for Legion. Its quick thinking saved her life."

He frowned at that, having not expected a geth of all people to go out of its way to save a quarian, a member of a species that had tried to wipe out his people centuries ago. He turned to the geth, who had apparently been listening, and nodded, "Why were you monitoring her vital signs?"

Its headflaps danced for a few seconds, contemplating how best to reply, before it finally landed on an appropriate answer, "Creator Tali'Zorah is a valued member of Normandy Collective. Recently, we have ascertained the belief, through surveillance of intracommunal vessel consensus and subsequent philosophical and ideological debates with EDI, that Creator Tali'Zorah also holds emotional and physical significance to Shepard-Commander. We have also noted the performance of courting rituals between Creator Tali'Zorah and Shepard-Commander, and while we find the notion of interspecies mating to be perplexing, we have acknowledged the bonds it forms between two organic platforms. Shepard-Commander is important to the war against the Old Machines. What is important to you is important to all geth. That makes Creator Tali'Zorah's safety a paramount priority. We cannot allow her runtime to be terminated."

Garrus turned to Shepard, who looked just as surprised as he did, and shrugged, "I think that's geth-speak for 'you're my friend, I protect my friends.' Legion's alright."

"I cannot express my gratitude enough, Legion. And I'm sure Tali can't either," he turned and patted the geth on the back, who looked mildly alarmed by the action, but quickly backed down, "So thank you, Legion."

"We also believe you'd want to know that Creator Tali'Zorah did not surrender willingly," Legion admitted, "When we arrived, we discovered no less than six deceased organics. All of them had been killed with knife wounds, and we found Creator Tali'Zorah's boot knife buried in the throat of the sixth deceased gang member."

Garrus nodded, "She didn't go down without a fight. She's truly one of us."

Legion then reached a hand out, with a small object grasped tightly in its grip. When the hand opened up, the object was revealed. It was Tali's boot knife. Legion must have retrieved it before leaving the scene.

Shepard took the knife, thanking the geth in a way that words couldn't, keeping the blood soaked knife's handle tightly in his hand, the dried blood beginning to become flaky and peel.

Silence reigned for a moment, before Garrus and Shepard turned back to the med bay. The tinted windows portrayed nothing of what went on inside, leaving them to only speculate about how the surgery was going. In his mind, he replayed the revelation of Tali's utlimatum, and how she had promised him to not go after the Neo-Nazis who attacked her. But he couldn't help but think her delirium had caused her to say such things. Why else would she have said them?

"So..." Garrus spoke, Shepard not turning to face him, "...we are going to find the bastards who did this and make them pay, right?"

Shepard mulled over it for a few more moments, but his decision had been reached the moment he arrived on the crew deck. He could not allow a promise made to someone who wasn't consciously aware of their choices to hinder him from getting the revenge he needed. At the moment, all he could do here was stand and wait. Wait and hope his _neh'sah_ came out alive, if not unmutilated. He needed to do something...and there was only one thing he knew he could do to make this right.

He turned to Garrus, "Get your gear and meet me in the armoury. Carry light. Legion, you too. I'm going to call Liara to find where these fuckers live and give them a taste of their own medicine."

* * *

 _Thirty-five minutes later..._

"Legion, adjust your pitch by five degrees, due north. You should find Shepard approaching down the alleyway."

"Affirmative, Vakarian-Archangel. Shepard-Commander has almost reached the belligerent food consumption facility."

Garrus watched through his binoculars as Shepard approached. He was serving as Legion's spotter, but the geth didn't really need one, so he was mostly here to keep an eye on Shepard. He could see the man, cap over his head and wearing nothing but a simple shirt and some fatigues, approaching down the alleyway, nearing the back exit to the human bistro that they had tracked the 'Neo-Nazis', as Shepard called them, to.

According to Liara's intel, the bistro was a front for the Soldiers of the Fourth Reich, or as it translated to in the human German language, the _Soldaten des vierten Reiches_ (SDVR). They were a Neo-Nazi organization that had developed on the Citadel and numerous human colonies following the end of the First Contact War, which arose from a shift in their ideology that was the direct result of the revelation that humanity wasn't alone in the galaxy. Apparently they were a 'white' supremacist organization that championed a mythical subspecies of human called 'Aryans', and that they were a master race. They descended from the National Socialist German Workers' Party, otherwise pejoratively and retrospectively referred to as the Nazis. Apparently, they were the same people who had plunged Earth into an event called a 'Second World War', and their destruction ultimately lay the groundwork for what eventually became the Systems Alliance. The Neo-Nazis believed in a return to the fascist system the Nazis had come up with, as well as their more racist beliefs. From what Garrus heard, he wouldn't shed a tear at seeing any of them die.

Especially given these were the people who had hurt Tali.

He continued to watch through his binoculars as Shepard confronted the man at the exit. Shepard said he would lure the men out onto the street where Legion and Garrus could pick them off, but so far, so signal had been given. Then, suddenly, Shepard lunged forward, seemed to whisper something in the thug's ear, and then he heard two gunshots. Shepard then disappeared inside the building.

 _By the spirits, what is he doing!?_

He reached up to his earpiece, knowing Shepard could hear him through it, "Shepard, wait for-" he heard the receiving earpiece bump against a hard surface, likely meaning it had dropped from Shepard's ear or, as was more likely, he had thrown it away.

 _He's going to solo them all. Shit._

"Legion, pack up and let's move. Change of plan. We're going in after him! Let's move!"

* * *

 _Present_.

He pulled the trigger.

The gun coughed...and then jammed.

Shepard shook his head, tossing the useless weapon aside. If it had been his own pistol, the weapon would have fired properly and Gutfreund's brains would be caking the floor. Unfortunately, in his rush to kill all the German supremacist's peons, he had picked up one of the cheaply manufactured and assembled knockoffs that the SDVR had, meaning it was far less reliable...and incredibly prone to jamming up.

"That's okay," he reached down and plucked out a combat knife from a sheath in his left boot, watching the blade glint in the sunlight. The khelish inscription on the silver, non sharpened edge read 'to the most important girl in my life, Tali. - Your mother.' It was Tali's boot knife, with the blood of her attackers still encrusted on its side, "I think Tali would appreciate it if her knife was used to gut you right here, right now."

Gutfreund was paralyzed with trepidation at the sight of a blood soaked Shepard approaching him with a knife in one hand, filled with a ravenous hunger to draw blood. But before the spectre could descend with the blade, the inscription on the side reminded him of his promise to Tali in that med bay, and he found himself slightly hesitating for a brief moment.

 _Damn it, kill this piece of shit!_

 _But I promised Tali I wouldn't do this..._

 _She's delirious! She's on so many drugs, she didn't know what she was saying!_

 _And if she did? Delirious or not, I can't decide what promises I keep to her and which ones I disregard. This is wrong._

 _Its right! This man deserves to die!_

 _Yes, but not my by hand! One day he will, but Tali made me promise that it won't be me! I made that promise...I must keep it!_

He hesitated for a few moments, but just as it looked like he might actually go through with it, his trance was broken by the sound of running footsteps through the kitchen. He whirled to face what he thought to be SDVR reinforcements, but lowered his knife as Garrus and Legion, rifles raised, came running into the room. Garrus whistled at the carnage he witnessed in the room, but otherwise made no comment as he watched Shepard, knife in hand, with Gutfreund sitting in his chair.

Shepard saw the understanding in his eyes. Suddenly, it was like Shepard was standing in Garrus' position, with Gutfreund replaced by Sidonis. He witnessed his own hypocrisy laid bare, yet neither of them really noticed it. All he saw was Garrus nodding, sympathetic to Shepard's need for revenge, and the turian began to walk back the way he came, "Legion and I will be outside...we'll give you some space to put that filth out of his-"

"No," Shepard declared.

" _No_?" Garrus and Gutfreund asked in tandem. Legion remained silent, quietly observing, its rifle still raised purposefully at Gutfreund, ensuring he didn't move an inch or try to escape.

Shepard exhaled, and after one more second of looking at Gutfreund, and the slaughterhouse he stood in, he shook his head regretfully and sheathed Tali's knife in his boot, "No. I made a promise to Tali. In that med bay, she made me promise not to retaliate against the SDVR for what they did. I may not understand why she didn't want me to, but its not up for me to break that promise, especially when I swore to keep it. I've already broken it by storming this place...I won't finish it."

"I see," Garrus stated plainly, looking at Gutfreund with a look that portrayed his lack of an attempt to hold back his revulsion, "So he gets to walk free?"

"I didn't say that," he revealed, turning to their geth friend, "Call C-Sec. Give them an anonymous tip about a quarian who was attacked by Neo-Nazi radicals and that somebody found their headquarters and retaliated. Give them the exact name of the restuarant."

Gutfreund just laughed, "You've got nothing on me. I'll be a free man within a few hours."

Shepard just cocked his head at him, granting him a sad smile, "That's where you're wrong, Gutfreund. I'm a Spectre. All I have to do is tell the Council that I think you're high-level terrorist threat, and you will be put in a cold dark cell for however long it takes for them to verify my suspicions."

Gutfreund looked worried, but still somewhat confident, "And when they do, I'll go free. You'll still lose."

"But you won't go free," he smashed the man's delusions all at once, leaving him devoid of a smile or any of the smugness he had carried before, "See, I'm friends with the Shadow Broker. Its how I found you and your little gang of white warriors. One word with them, and suddenly you'll be complicit in so many crimes you didn't even know you committed. How does being funded by Cerberus sound? I also find it rephrensible that you would try to set up an alien sex trafficking ring on Thessia."

Gutfreund was flustered, his cheeks burning red hot, "I would never do that-"

"Oh, but you will have. Once the Broker is done with you, you'll be charged with enough crimes to justify a life sentence. Or perhaps even land you the death sentence. Your complicity in that will also lead to a mass crackdown on the SDVR most likely, especially once the Council races learn you've committed such heinous acts against their people."

By the end, Gutfreund was a sweating, blubbering wreck. All Shepard could do after that was lean over, smile at him, and chuckle bitterly, "Enjoy prison, asshole. On the Citadel, there will be plenty of aliens for you to meet. God forbid you start mouthing off about that master race shit around a krogan."

As if in goodbye, Shepard reached up and hooked the SDVR leader straight across the face, spittle and bits of broken teeth spewing out as the man's head whipped to the side from the blow. Adding insult to injury, the spectre spat on his face, before finishing his departure by turning and simply walking out, motioning for Legion to follow and Garrus to watch Gutfreund and wait for C-Sec to arrive.

Gutfreund simply whimpered, trying his best to ignore the piercing, murderous glare Garrus gave him the entire time, a tempest of sanguinary thoughts passing through his mind. He was almost glad for when C-Sec finally turned up, finally freed from that gaze.

* * *

 _The next day_.

Tali came to slowly and groggily, her vision turning the myopic soup that was her surroundings and transforming it, bit by bit, into something perceptive. Within moments, her eyes locked onto one object...no, one person, one that was sitting beside and smiling at her. She felt her own lips tug up in response instictively, and when her vision finally returned her perceivable consciousness to reality, she found out why.

"How...how long was I out?" she asked.

"Its been a day," Shepard admitted, a half eaten burger resting on his lap. The first thing she noticed was that he wasn't wearing a suit, and upon closer inspection, the purple haze that covered her eyesight confirmed she was back in her envirosuit. Suddenly, she didn't feel so exposed, "They finished surgery in a few hours. You flatlined a few times, but you got out okay. You're alive, but she said you won't be able to stand on your own feet for a few weeks, and you won't be able to return to duty for a few months."

Tali groaned, shaking her head, "The idea of doing nothing for a few months sounds awful..."

"I don't know," Shepard shrugged impishly, grinning from ear to ear, "Gives us plenty of time to catch up on all the time together we've missed."

The couple chatted for nearly two hours, Tali finding Shepard's presence at her bedside to be extremely soothing to her aching, drug-addled mind. She felt safe and secure, like no one could hurt when he was around. But those thoughts only confirmed to her that there was a question on her mind that she needed answered.

"John..." she began, grabbing his attention immediately, "...did you keep your promise? The promise you made to not retaliate?"

Shepard failed to meet her eyes for a few moments, which was all the answer she needed. She wasn't angry. She wasn't even disappointed. She had known it was an impossible promise to keep. If she had been in his position, she knew full well she'd have broken such a promise herself to strike back at the people responsible for hurting him. In all honesty, she wasn't even sure why she had asked it of him.

"I broke it. Almost immediately, in fact," he straight up admitted, not wanting to improprietarily mislead her, "I was just so...angry, and helpless. I wanted to do something to help you, but I couldn't. I needed to vent my frustration, and the only way to do that was get back at those who hurt you. I took Garrus and Legion with me...Liara gave us their location. They were based out of a bistro. I...slaughtered them. Gunned them down. I wasn't quick with some of them, either. I killed all of them, and eventually found their ringleader. The one who ordered the ambush that almost got you killed. I was ready to put a bullet through his skull. I almost did, until the gun jammed up. Then I almost used your boot knife to gut him...symbolic justice, I thought. But...I didn't do it."

Throughout all of what she heard, she hadn't expected Shepard to end with that. To kill Gutfreund yes, but to spare him? She needed to know why...he already broke the promise, why try to keep it that far past the point of return, "Why didn't you?"

"Because I remembered my promise to you," he articulated, wrapping up his burger and placing it on the desk behind him, out of the way, "And I realized I had no right to disregard your opinion. That even if you were delirious, I owed it to you, my best friend and now my girlfriend, to keep the promise I made to you. So...I let him live. He didn't get away scott free: Garrus handed him over to C-Sec, and Liara is currently fabricating so many stories about the crimes he committed right now that she will make sure he never leaves prison. I couldn't allow him to completely escape justice, but...I wouldn't kill him either. Not personally, anyway."

She smiled sadly, reaching up and gripping his hand tightly, "I...don't know what I was thinking. I just...think you're above that. We have bigger enemies to worry about without waging war on insignificant, two-bit, racist gangbangers. We don't need them coming after us when we've got the Reapers and Cerberus to worry about. But even if I was wrong...I'm honoured that you thought my opinion was worth listening to. Even if it meant letting a man like that live to see another day."

He smiled back, and reached up and kissed her on the mask, chesting his face on the top while he stroked the back of her neck caringly, "Everything you say matters to me. I love you."

"I love you, too."

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_

 _ **This prompt has finally outdone Snapshot 5 for total word count...fucking hell. Still, I hope whoever requested this is still reading and is satisfied. This was, in my opinion, my favourite prompt to write in a while, mostly because I was able to write an action scene for the first time in a long while (EQC will have them, but while I'm trying to get there, I'm stuck writing dialogue for a while, which can get draining, believe me).**_

 _ **You know the drill. Chapter 11 of EQC is up next, then another prompt. We've got roughly ten prompts to go now. Don't worry, everybody will get their turn! You can be sure of that! Am I not proving that by continually updating this story?**_

 _ **Until next time,**_

 _ **Keelah se'lai, troopers!**_


	18. Snapshot 17: He's Mine

_**This prompt was requested by DwemerSteelBlade. I was initially baffled as to how to approach this prompt, mostly because a) I feel the 'insecure love interest' and 'love interest overhears conversation taken-out-of-context and takes it as evidence of cheating' tropes are really worn out, especially given Tali embodies the first in ME2, and I wasn't a fan of it being brought up as a request and b) there's very little to work with. However, I quickly found a way to make this original, yet funny, while keeping it loyal to the prompter's request. So...here you go. Enjoy, Dwemer!**_

* * *

If there was one thing Tali would say she was learning about herself...it was that she was a terrible drunk. And she meant _really_ bad. 'Saying things you'll later regret' type of drunk. 'The selfless, innocent quarian becomes a selfish, not-so-innocent quarian' type of drunk. The type of drunk some would call cute and adorable...while Tali just wanted to find the nearest hole, crawl into it and die a thousand times over.

Quarians had few opportunities to truly get wasted. Consumable alcohol couldn't be found anywhere on the Fleet, largely because it was seen as a resource that wasn't necessary. And when it came to unnecessary, wasteful resources...the quarians were masters of making sure they had none of it, and only what they needed. Plus, a drunk quarian was a quarian who wasn't doing their job...and that could be the difference between survival and a drive core breach, or a malfunction in sterile environments...it was simply too much of a risk to allow. So the problem was simply removed altogether. As such, not many quarians were given an opportunity to get inebriated, except on their pilgrimages...and even then, few chances were provided to purchase alcohol.

Tali, however, was a special case. Her pilgrimage differed from other quarians in that she ended up joining a special group of people with a special, and dangerous, task. She had made friends with a krogan, befriended the first human spectre and a turian law enforcement officer...she'd been pretty lucky compared to other pilgrims. However, the flip side was that she was exposed to many activities that other species took for granted.

Which included alcohol. Yeah, that was a mistake.

Its not as if she hated all kinds of liquor...she loved turian brandy, and she didn't mind the odd dextro wine. The problem was that it was too enjoyable, which ultimately led to the body wanting more of it, and then more of it, and more, and more, and more...and before one knew it, they were reeling on the floor, either passed out, suffering from a throbbing headache, puking...or all of the above, just not necessarily in that order. It was a rollercoaster that had unpredictable twists and turns, which made the experience both trepidating and exciting at the same time. The body yearned for the liquid with every sip: a warm, pleasant consumption that slid down the throat, and filled the head with fuzzy, incoherent thoughts. Alcohol was an odd discovery, but a welcome one.

To Tali, she was never quite sure if she truly regretted that first sip...or thoroughly enjoyed it. It seemed like everytime she did get drunk, she made a fool of herself. It had become a running theme to the point where the crew placed bets on what Tali would do when she got drunk next. It was embarassing to know people found her that amusing, but it hadn't stopped her from downing drinks whenever she got the chance.

The first time she had gotten drunk was after the Battle of the Citadel three years ago, during their celebration at Flux. Garrus had encouraged her to relax, and while she had been initially reluctant, encouragement from Ashley, Shepard and even Liara had eventually convinced her to, as they put it, 'let her hair down a little.' She had, and the result had been Shepard and Ashley joining together to help carry her back to the ship, the quarian muttering about how she loved them both (this was before she got together with Shepard) and apparently trying to upgrade her omni-tool with glue and duct tape.

Yeah...that happened.

The second time was, again, during celebrations, after successfully defeating the Collectors. Although, she wasn't the only one who got wasted that night: Shepard did too, and while she couldn't remember exactly what they had done, the fact she woke up the next morning in bed with him and practically naked didn't leave enough for a mystery. Suffice to say, that had been one of her better drunken states...but also one she would have preferred to remember if she could.

The third encounter she had with insobriety was a little less...high-spirited. It hadn't been too long ago actually, only roughly a week and a half before now. They had tracked Kai Leng from Thessia to Horizon, where they raided an until-now secret Cerberus research facility that had been using a refugee camp as a front to gain access to a steady supply of test subjects, and was the source of their large military forces that the Illusive Man had, perceivably, managed to pull out of his pocket. The place was overrun with Reapers, and to top it all off, Miranda's father had spearheaded the project. With him dead and UGC intelligence sent to clean up the place, the crew had returned to the _Normandy_.

Most had bottled up their reactions to the horrors found below. Of civilians, men and women, transformed into husk creatures...of children being melted down for the simple purpose of researching the process the Collectors had used to create the Human-Reaper. Tali had done so as well...but upon returning to the ship, she could hold it in no more. She took to the bottle, and that was the end of that. The next thing she remembered was waking up in the captain's cabin, with no recollection of what she had done.

And now she was here. Admiral Hackett had practically ordered Shepard to take a break and have some shore leave, and while he technically outranked the admiral, being Consul of the entire UGC after all, he respected Hackett's authority enough to know to take a hint. One quest to defeat his own clone and retake their ship later (because of course even shore leave had to have some major struggle for survival), the crew had gathered at Shepard's apartment to party and vent their stresses. Even former crew members had flocked to join them, and soon the apartment had exploded into laughter, dancing, shouting and loud music. But, most of all, heavy drinking was involved.

You can accurately guess what happened next.

It hadn't taken her for very long to get drunk: it rarely did once she started. The party had quickly disintegrated into a series of 'mini-parties', with everybody breaking up into individual groups that sorta did their own thing. The groups didn't remain static: one member would leave to join another, and so on. Tali was somewhat of a wanderer...moving back and forth, up and downstairs, to the point where nobody could accurately predict where she'd end up next. If Tali didn't know the layout of the apartment off by heart by the end of the night, the crew would be very surprised.

Shepard wasn't far from many of those groups, and when they ran into each other, Shepard most of the time grinning and trying to keep her from being too flirtatious. Tali was the kind of drunk where alcohol wore down all the self restraint and discipline she had put in place, leaving behind a shameless flirt. He had succeeded more times than not in keeping her modest, aside from perhaps one incident in the kitchen where she had gotten a little too explicit with her details of their first night together.

Her cheeks flushed red hot just thinking about it, even in the state she was currently in...aimlessly floating around the apartment with no direction or guiding force to keep her situated. Thoughts of Shepard never failed to warm her up inside, and had the crew been able to see her face, they'd have seen a quarian smiling nearly constantly throughout the night: the audience to some joke they weren't aware of, or simply hadn't heard. It was no shock that when she got drunk, that happiness came spilling out.

She loved Shepard. It was a feeling she had dismissed as mere childish fantasy back during the Saren days, having convinced herself it was nothing but a crush, brought on by his kindness and friendship, combined with his physical attractiveness. But her two year long depression after his death had quickly disspelled that theory. She hadn't been interested in anyone else, not even of her own species. And when he returned from the dead, all those feelings had come rushing back. It wasn't just a crush. It wasn't just a puerile fancy. It was love. And while initially skeptical of its ability to become reality, it was obvious that, after the next year had passed, it couldn't be anything but that.

Her love for him was real. His love for her was real. It kept them together, connected. They were stronger when at each other's side, and felt comfort and safety when the other's presence was felt. No short-term relationship could emulate such conditions. The viscerality of it all felt empowering. She didn't feel alone, and she had someone who loved her just as much as she loved them. And, most of all, she had overcome the odds.

The entire galaxy, even her own crewmates, had believed it impossible. Shepard wouldn't choose the quarian...why would he? He could have anyone he wanted. The cream of the crop. So why would he go for someone whose face he can't see, skin he can't feel, lips he can't kiss? A person who could potentially die simply by being face-to-face with him?

But he _had_ picked her. And Tali would never forget that. She would cherish it for the rest of her life. She truly was lucky.

However, there was more to Tali's affection for him. In quarian culture and biology, there was more to love than a simple emotional development that was accrued from attraction. For quarians, there was a psychological bond that ran much deeper than that base desire: a bond that wasn't tangible, but utterly unbreakable. Once two quarians bonded, that was it. Divorce wasn't even a concept in their society, because it wasn't biologically or culturally possible to them...they bonded for life. The other species called these couples 'lifemates', but that was mostly a term with asari origins. In khelish, they were called the _Neh'sah_ , or 'the whole.' Only couples who had formed a permanent bond called each other this.

It shouldn't have been possible for her to develop this bond with Shepard, a non-quarian, but Tali felt it anyway. All the symptoms were present, including a sense of loneliness when they weren't near. And while she wasn't sure of it, she had a feeling Shepard somehow felt it too...whatever the case, the two clearly had no interest in anyone else but each other, so they might as well have been _neh'sah_ already.

The point here was that quarians were extremely territorial and possessive around their _neh'sah_ , and would not tolerate any threats to their life...or potential advances by other interested parties. Females of her species were especially vicious when it came to this, and how often during the ancient times of quarian civilization they would often fight to the death to protect those they cared about. Such incidents were much less common now that the quarians had developed culturally, now resolving such issues through debate, diplomacy or simply through self-taught restraint. But that didn't mean they were any less possessive.

Inebriation didn't neuter this. In actuality, it exacerbated the problem. With the alcohol lowering her base inhibitions, eroding her discipline and eliminating whatever barriers she had put in place to keep her true thoughts at bay until Tali, and Tali alone, decided to air them, Tali became an unpredictable mess of mixed feelings, ideas and behaviours. And, perhaps most importantly, this left nothing but the most basic and primal of quarian instincts bled through the gaps in her mental defenses, knocking aside years of civilized doctrine to give into the same desires and instinctual reactions that her ancestors had thrived on, during times where they still lived in trees and ran on all fours.

At first, Tali didn't think this would become a problem. After all, she would never get drunk around her enemies enough for her to turn into a growling, running-on-all-fours, slashing killing machine, and while she had been initially been competing with the likes of Liara, Ashley and Miranda to get Shepard's attention, she was no longer worried about underperforming or not being good enough...even if it took multiple reassurances from Shepard himself for that to sink in. So, really, what risk was there?

But she was so _very_ wrong.

"Exccuussssseeeeee mmeeeeeeeee, Garrrrrussss," she slurred, finding her word spinning slightly as she stood up from the bench she had been leaning against as a support, her momentary loss of balance resulting in a small puddle of spilt brandy from her bottle splashing onto the floor. In her attempt to leave the kitchen area, she had nearly pumped into Garrus, who promptly stepped to the side to allow her to pass.

"Where are you going?" the turian asked, nowhere near as hammered as she was. She would begrudgingly admit to being a light weight, a fact Garrus took great glee in pointing out, but it never deterred her from downing an entire bottle of brandy anyway.

She stumbled a little bit, fighting desperately just to keep one foot infront of the other, the simple task becoming more of an olympic challenge, "To find Sheeepparrrrdddd...he must be hiding somewheeerreeeee."

Garrus just snorted, "He's at the second bar area, just where the poker table is."

She wanted to spin to face him, surprised by how he was able to conjure up an answer so fast, but considering how she could barely keep her vision from spiralling out of control, she thought it best to keep on track to where she was originally headed: out of the kitchen, "How did yoooooouuuuuuuuu know?" She hiccuped shortly after, delaying his answer by a milisecond.

He just chuckled, "I'm a master detective. I know everything."

She didn't really think that warranted an answer, especially as it would have been a distraction to her main task, which was currently attempting to walk in a straight line. While difficult, she liked to think she was getting the hang of it, and soon the trippy tempest of blurry surroundings that had made up the better part of her eyesight began to absorb some proper focus as she used her hands to guide her along the walls, almost like a blind person does to traverse their environment.

Given that the area Garrus described wasn't far from the kitchen, it didn't take her long to reach the entrance, but she didn't enter just yet, her body suddenly lurching to the right side as she lost control of her balance, nearly tumbling to the floor. She hiccuped again, fearing she might vomit, but sighed with some relief as her gag reflex didn't trigger. The warmth filling her body remained prominent throughout all of this inner pandemonium, the pleasant result of having ingested so much liquor. She felt as though she would fly off at any second, her existence feeling as light as a feather, yet as clumsy as landslide.

Deciding to rest for a moment to 'get her wits back' as it were, she heard voices coming from the other side of the wall, one which triggered a dopey smile to pass across her lips as she heard Shepard talking, snippets of his conversation filtering through her mind, but coming out as a garbled mess due to her inability to properly process information, "...Jack...better than that...you two...calm down..."

She heard another voice speak up, this one she recognized as belonging to the psychotic biotic herself, formerly known as Subject Zero, and now just generally known as Jack to her shipmates and comrades. The crazy, one-strap-away-from-naked biotic convict had changed significantly in just the year-long timespan Tali had known her, turning into a somewhat respectable teacher and guardian of humanity's most gifted biotic students. She still had a language that her Aunt Shala would be shocked to hear translated, but she had grown a lot as a person. Dare she say it, Tali respected her immensely.

And still would...if her mind wasn't currently addled with the finest dextro brandy available in Council space.

"Listen, boy scout...great body...don't swing...so how about...yourself...asshole."

It sounded like Shepard laughed at that, but Tali couldn't tell because she had hiccuped so loudly at that moment that her ears popped. That was weird, "Was just...just thought...so much tension...that there was...connection?"

A third voice spoke up now, this one belonging to Miranda Lawson. When they first met, Tali hated everything about her. It was bad enough she was Cerberus, the same organization that had attacked and slaughtered the crew of a quarian ship, but she was a Cerberus apologist and yes woman...or so it seemed, and that, coupled with her being the Illusive Man's top lieutenant at the time and right-hand woman, had made it even worse. But as time went on, just as it did with Jack, her respect grew. They weren't friends exactly, but they had a respect for one another that transcended friendship. And after Horizon...well, Miranda had done something Tali had never managed to do, and that had been part of what led her to the bottle. Miranda overcame her father, Tali never did, "Typical...always thinking with your...friends...more to it...sillly..."

Even with her thoughts being the soupy and splintered shambles that they were, Tali was beginning to get suspicious of where this conversation was going. What she heard sounded suggestive enough, but what came next only lenghtened that train of thought.

"If you weren't...princess there...might...up on that..." Jack stated.

Shepard sounded surprised by that, "Not...happy...fix that?"

"Perhaps...no expert...alright...need some help...take you up...that?" Miranda added.

Okay, now she _really_ didn't like where this was going. Something stirred up inside her, but she wasn't sure if it was anger...or resentment. Perhaps both?

"Make you...happy...fix that problem...out of that suit?" Jack asked.

"...make it work...easy...not happy...personal," Shepard responded.

Miranda seemed to agree with whatever was being said, "Can always...help out with...make you happy."

There was no mistaking the subject of the exchange now. Even drunk, the words said couldn't have been construed any other way.

Miranda and Jack were making a move on Shepard. Her _neh'sah_.

There was a time in their adventures when Tali might have taken this with a lowered head, slouched posture and a 'better luck next time' mentality. The mindset was that she was just a quarian trapped in a suit whose face Shepard couldn't see whenever he wanted, while Miranda and Jack and other women like them could keep him satisfied, and thus had a better chance of getting his attention. Her pilgrimage had jaded her to the attitudes of other races, and while Shepard had treated her better than anyone else she had met, he still had needs and urges like everybody else, and she couldn't deny him that for her own selfish reasons. She would have taken defeat on the nose, and while she would have been disappointed, she would eventually move on, and be happy for whoever was lucky enough to be with him, as well as for Shepard himself. After all, they were still friends. Best friends, even.

But that time had passed. Tali had won. She was his, and he was hers. Tali's confidence had soared, and with it, her insecurities were washed away like so much unwanted detritus on a beach. He was her _neh'sah_. Unlike with other species, with the exception of maybe the asari, that wasn't some throwaway term of affection that one quarian afforded another whenever they picked up on a modicum of intimate thoughts between the two of them. It was a symbol of an everlasting bond, one that couldn't be broken by anyone. It represented a life that would be spent together, forever, and without end until death. It also meant they would fight to preserve what was theirs.

She wasn't a meek little quarian, way in over her head, anymore. She was Shepard's _neh'sah_ , and she would do anything to protect what was hers. She would not be pushed over by these two women. Not Miranda, with her genetically perfect body! Not Jack, with her tattooed, loud-mouthed, overly sexual personality! Oh no, she would fight _back_.

 _He's_ _ **mine**_ _._

It was the most selfish thing Tali would ever allow herself to embrace.

Her first plan of attack was to waltz in there and verbally browbeat the two into submission. But Tali she wasn't all that intimidating, even when sober. Jack wasn't afraid of anything, and Miranda was a woman who radiated self-confidence. Both of them were biotics, and neither of them would be moved by a stumbling, hiccuping quarian with nothing but words for a weapon. She would make a fool of herself. No...if they could use their strengths to beat her, Tali would use _her_ strengths to beat _them_.

Backing away from the wall, and stumbling back through the kitchen, she headed for the spare bedroom on the opposite side of the apartment, numerous plans drunkenly swaying through her mind as she came up with a plan to 'wage war' against Miranda and Jack. Tali would not be defeated in this. She was going to show them just who they were messing with. That Shepard was hers.

 _I'll show them that_ _ **he's mine**_ _!_

* * *

Taking another swig of the latest bottle she had been skolling, Jack found there was nothing left to drink. With a casual shrug of her shoulders, she placed the bottle on the kitchen bench she had just walked past, and continued her onward trek to the lavatory, cracking her neck in the process.

 _Fuck, I need to piss. I can't even remember how many drinks I've downed so far...was it ten or eleven? Eh, who fucking cares. I don't even feel that bad yet. The night is still fucking young!_

There were many things about Jack that had changed thanks to Shepard's influence over the past year, but one thing he couldn't, and wouldn't, change was her party-girl attitude. Her body was like a black hole where alcohol was concerned, as she could down almost fifteen drinks and only ever get slightly tipsy. She had a feeling it had a lot to do with her heightened metabolism as a result of the high traces of eezo fused into her body, but whatever the case, she didn't care. She could throw a party with the best of them, and she had a music playlist on her omni-tool large enough to take up a quarter of its total forty petabyte-sized memory.

Regardless, she still needed to 'pass water' like everybody else. Such was the case when the lavatory called out to her, and the not-even-close-to-drunk human biotic answered its call.

Arriving, she slapped at the door control to open, although probably a tad more forcefully than she needed to. Stepping inside, she didn't even wait for the door to close fully before she found the toilet seat and landed upon it. She was in the process of pulling her pants down when she noticed a flash in her peripheral vision. Frowning, she stopped what she was doing and turned to face the lone vidscreen that sat on the wall on one end of the bath tub. It had spontaneously switched on for no apparent reason, which was enough for her to pay attention.

At first, nothing of value appeared on the screen: just the series of multi-coloured bars that represented no signal connection with the extranet. After a few seconds though, the screen turned a dark shade of purple, followed by a piercing screech of sound ravaging the vidscreen's speakers. The sound was at a pitch so high, yet so low, on the audio spectrum that it was able to trigger certain reactions in her L4-X biotic implant. The reaction wasn't drastic enough to cause a migraine, but it was enough to sting, causing her to wince from the sudden and sharp pain, as well as from the ear-bleedingly loud sound hitting her.

 _What the fuck is this?_

The sound was thankfully short, and ended after a few mercifully short moments. The screen switched from purple to what looked like an extranet page...one that didn't take long for Jack to recognize. Her eyes widened and she shot up from the toilet seat in alarm, surprised to find the site she uploaded her poems to showing up so blatantly on screen. She opened her omni-tool to see if it was possible her device had somehow connected with and begun broadcasting to the vidscreen, but that theory was quickly dashed with the sound of an all too-familiar voice coming over the speakers, "That's right, _bosh'tet_! I knnnnooow where you upload your poooooooeeeeeems! Who knew the mighty and powerful Jack could be sooooo vulnerable!"

Okay, she was _not_ expecting that, "Tali?"

There was a giggle, followed by a hiccup, "Whhaaaaaaat? Nooooooooo! You're misssstaken! I am not Taliiii, I'm...um...okayyyyyy, you got meeee! Now lisssttttteeennn up, Ja-" she hiccuped again, "-ck! I will only say this onncccceeee! Not once, or twice, or thrice...wait, I have to say it at least once or you won't...anyway, you need to listen carrreeeefulllly! I have...your poems! I will let the entire galaxy know how vulnerable yoouuuuuuuu are! All you need to do...for my silence, is to stay away from my _neh'sah_!"

If this was supposed to shed light on the issue for Jack, it had done a pretty bad job of it. She was just as baffled now as she had been when this...whatever _this_ was...had started, "Neigh what now? Buckethead, what are you doing?"

"Don't you play dumb!" the quarian insisted, "I know what you're doiinnnggggg! I'm not stuuupppid! Stay away from _him_! I mean it! I will...do bad things! He's _mine._ You hear me? _Minnnnnneeeeeee_!"

Before Jack could respond, the screen switched off, leaving behind nothing to suggest it had ever been switched on to begin with. For her part, all she could do was stare confusingly at the screen like she had just seen a dinosaur with a cowboy hat walk out of it, the human totally taken back by the nature and reason for why the quarian had made such an odd, totally-out-of-nowhere threat like that.

There was only response that befit her in that moment.

"What the fuck?"

* * *

"Excuse me one moment."

Miranda quietly excused herself from the pleasant conversation she was having with Samara as she headed for the bar to get herself more wine. The party was still in full swing, with Shepard having switched the music from calm and serene, to loud and upbeat. Many had taken to the living room to dance, while those who weren't as inclined to such proclivities had retreated upstairs to continue their quiet conversations, Miranda and Samara having been one such pair.

Noticing her wine glass was now empty, the woman had assured the asari justicar of her return before quietly moving downstairs to get a refill...she might even just grab a whole bottle, since they had enough of the stuff as it was.

Once on the lower floor, she quickly headed through the kitchen and exited into the secondary bar, where it didn't take her long to fish around for a fresh wine bottle, this one so brand new that the cork hadn't been removed yet. Noting the year and name of the wine, she found it to be one of her favourites, and was in the process of standing up and walking back upstairs when her omni-tool, quite loudly she might add, pinged.

She flinched from the sound, knowing for a fact that her notification sound for her omni-tool was never _that_ loud. She always had it turned down so that it wouldn't interrupt important meetings or disrupt her work. This time, it was so booming that it could almost be heard over the dance music, which was deafening as it was. Steadying herself, she looked down at her omni-tool, only for it to ping... _again_ , equally as loud.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And _SIXTY MORE TIMES_ , all in rapid succession!

By the time she was finally able to turn the volume down, discovering it had been raised to maximum (she would never do that!), she discovered that the pings had been literally for every single message she had just been sent, each and every one of them containing links to extranet pages. She was already confused at how she had somehow turned up the volume on her omni-tool without noticing, but the anonymous sender only sparked further interest.

When she saw the links, her confusion deepened, and panic ensued.

She didn't need to click on the links to know what they were. They were extranet dating sites. But that wasn't the alarming part. The part that really got to her was that the links specified they sent you _directly to her profile_. More specifically, the profile of 'Sphinx42'. And even worse, it wasn't just to the profile itself...these links suggested that the profile had been _logged into_ by _somebody else_.

Miranda's dating history was a well kept secret. Her somewhat snooty attitude and desire for perfection was a fascade she had created to cover up the fact that she was, in reality, very lonely. Very few men met the extraordinarly long list of expectations she held for them in being in a relationship with her, and while she could only count Shepard as being one of those who had met her checklist, she had never been with him thanks to Tali'Zorah getting to him first, and Shepard's lack of reciprocal interest. She knew she had a body men desired, but that didn't mean she was a nymphomaniac. She had standards. And sadly enough, her line of work forced her to seek men meeting those standards through dating sites. That's just how it was.

Her reputation would fall apart if others knew about said dating history. And from the looks of it, somebody had found out, and was making sure she knew it.

Her panic subsided a bit when she saw the last message to ping on her notifications: this one didn't contain a link. Opening it, she expected to find a list of demands from this mysterious attacker, but all she got was a simple sentence.

 _'If you don't want this popping up on the extranet, back off, bosh'tet. He's mine."_

She had to admit: that caught her offguard. From the use of a khelish curse word, it was obvious right from the get go this enigmatic blackmailer was a quarian. But what did they mean by the cryptic message? 'He's mine'? What did that mean? The entire message oozed possessiveness, so obviously Miranda had done something to piss off this quarian in some way. But how? She didn't know many quarians to begin with, with the exception of one she knew very-

"Hey, cheerleader!"

Snapped from her mental investigation, she looked up to see Jack approaching her, looking thoroughly...baffled?

"Yes, Jack?"

"You won't fucking believe the shit that just happened to me," the biotic, who usually hated Miranda's guts and had no problem demonstrating it, confided in her, "The quarian princess herself just...well, she tried to blackmail me. Whilst I was on the toilet. Through a vidscreen. Said a bunch of cryptic shit about telling me to back off. Said to back away from her 'neigh sah', or some shit like that. I don't fucking know! She sounded pissed, so I don't know what the fuck to think. Think I should take this to Shepard?"

Miranda's eyes widened at that. _Jack got blackmailed by Tali? But...wait, I got blackmailed too...by a quarian! Is...Tali blackmailing both of us? Why?_

"She did it to me too, just now," Miranda admitted.

Jack just threw her hands up into the air with exasperation, "The fuck? Has buckethead lost her marbles? I knew she was drunk, but blackmail hardly seems like something the princess would do."

Miranda tried to think of reasons for why Tali would lash out at them like this, and it didn't take long for two words of prominence to pop into her mind. Turning to Jack, she frowned deeply, "Jack, what stuck out to you in your encounter with her? She said 'he's mine' in the message she sent to me."

Jack nodded, "She said that to me too! Shit, you have any idea what the hell she's on about?"

Finally, it clicked. Miranda shook her head, resisting the urge to facepalm, "I think I _might_ know. We need to confront Shepard about this. I think there's been a misunderstanding of some sort."

"Misunderstanding?" Jack repeated, clearly not understanding what the former Cerberus agent meant, "You think buckethead's confused about something?"

"Oh, she's _very_ confused."

* * *

A knock could be heard on the door, "Tali? You in there?"

Lying with her back on the bed, head propped against a pillow, the quarian was drunkenly muttering to herself as she typed on her omni-tool, putting into motion the next step of her plan to protect her lifemate from Miranda and Jack. The voice of said mate coming through the door made her stop though, eyes darting to the door automatically, distracting her from her important work. Grinning stupidly, she rolled across the bed and landed on the floor with a thump, her movement probably a bit _too_ enthusiastic, given her state of mind.

She pressed on regardless, pulling herself to her feet and stumbling over to the door, "I'm here, John! Come on in!"

The door shot open just as Tali reached out to lean on it, causing her to fall forward, straight into Shepard's arms. He quickly caught her, hugging her closely in a way that made Tali hum contentedly. He didn't let go either, but the usual tenderness that was present in their hugs was absent in the way he held. Troubled by this, she pulled away to look up at him, cocking her head to the side, "What's wrong, John?"

He sighed, shaking his head as he motioned to behind them, "Tali, apparently there's been a bit of a misunderstanding."

She hiccuped again, raising her hand to cover her mouth, only for it to bump against her vocalizer. She giggled, shaking her head, trying to get her vision focused on his eyes, but finding it spinning lazily all over the place, "Mis-*hiccup*-understanding? I don't know what yooouuuuuu meeeeaaannnn...?"

He shook his head, the barest hint of a smile showing through his lips as he tried to remain serious, "Tali, you've been trying to blackmail Jack and Miranda. They told me what you've been doing, and their theory for why you're doing it."

She turned her head, finding Jack and Miranda, the former with her arms crossed and the latter with her hands clasped behind her back, standing just behind Shepard. She immediately got defensive, her movements surprisingly well orchestrated for someone who was supposed to be weak-legged at that moment. She placed herself between Shepard and the two women, who for their part looked mildly puzzled by the action, while Jack looked just a tad amused by it. She pointed at them accusingly, "I told you to back off, *hiccup* _bosh'tets_! He's my _neh'sah_!"

It was Miranda who spoke first, waving her hand dismissively at Tali, "Tali, I'm not interested in Shepard. Neither is Jack. I don't know what you may have heard, but you heard it wrong. You're right, Shepard is your...bondmate...and we acknowledge that. Believe me when I say we're not so low as to try and get your partner to cheat on you."

Jack just scoffed, grinning from ear to ear, "I'm not a bitch, buckethead. What's yours is yours. I'll admit, you've got balls, girl. Didn't think you could be so fucking feisty, or protective. I'm not going to fuck with your man, and I'm not going to try and fuck your man. So chill the fuck out."

Tali, at first, wasn't convinced, looking back and forth between them, looking for the lies. But even as drunk as she was, she knew when Jack was being sincere. The convict had a way with words that was definitely unique, that much could be said, but she was never one to censor herself. She rarely, if ever, lied. She said things as she saw it. Jack was certainly the kind of person that would straight up admit to another woman whether or not she was trying to undermine her relationship. She had no reason to lie about that, especially if she was being unsuccessful, so the fact she was admitting to _not_ competing with her for Shepard...meant she was telling the truth. As for Miranda...again, she really didn't have much of a reason to lie. Even a drunken quarian could see that.

"Oooooohhhhhhh," she replied dumbly, suddenly losing her balance as her legs gave out, causing her to fall backwards...again, straight into Shepard's arms. She looked up, finding his face hovering over her, and poked his nose with a finger playfully, "I made a mistake."

"That you have," Shepard replied. Looking up at Miranda and Jack, he quickly slung Tali into his arms, the quarian curling up into him like a blanket, as he made to move for upstairs, "I think Miss Zorah here needs some sleep. I'm glad we could clear this up."

"Not a problem, Shepard," Miranda assured him.

As such, Shepard quietly moved past the both of them, Tali in tow, the quarian momentarily lifting her head to face both Miranda and Jack, who locked eyes with her in that moment, "Sorrrrrrrrrrryyyy for what I did...it was stupid. I shoullllldddddd have known better!"

"Don't sweat it, princess," Jack offered as a reply, shrugging non-chalantly, "I thought it was funny."

"Stilllllll..." Tali added, surprising the two of them as she finished, "I mean it, bosh'tets. Back off..."

Her last two words could be heard as Shepard rounded the corner, leaving Jack laughing and Miranda smiling a little.

"...he's _mine_."

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_

 _ **Hope you enjoyed, Dwemer. Is it everything you hoped? Let me know in a review!**_

 _ **I'll be doing another Flashpoint prompt next, then its back to EQC! Lots of exciting content to cover, for FPT and EQC alike!**_

 _ **Until then,**_

 _ **Keelah Se'lai, troopers!**_


	19. Snapshot 18: A Bitter Memoriam

_**This prompt was requested by St4nhop3. Its another dark prompt, so again, for morbid enough reasons, I've been looking forward to writing this one, especially once I figured out a sound and sensible way to approach it. Don't expect any happy feelings from this, so if that's what you're looking for, I don't suggest reading this.**_

 _ **On a sidenote, I seriously recommend checking out St4nhop3's stuff. He's an incredibly talented artist with Jackmancer-leanings, but he also does art for other characters too, including our favourite quarian herself! He also did the cover art for a new story I'm going to be doing once EQC is finished that I can't wait to show to you all, and I think you guys are going to love it! He largely operates on Deviantart, but if you're part of the Mass Effect fan page on Facebook (which I am), you can find him on there (I won't disclose his name unless he wants me to). Here's a link to his art:**_

 _ **: / / www DOT deviant art DOT com / stan 94**_

* * *

The war was lost, and it had been for a while.

As Tali'Zorah vas Normandy, Admiral of what remained of the Quarian Fleet, slammed her geth plasma shotgun into the chest of a flashbanged Cerberus assault trooper, pulling the trigger and watching as seared chunks of meat were blown from his body, semi-evaporated blood spatter spurting across her mask to join the rest that had already collected and dried there, her squad behind her opening fire on the remaining stunned hostiles, all she could think of was the events that had led up to this point. The events that had doomed them all.

And the place where the war had taken a turn for the worst, before it had even _begun_.

There had been a time where Tali had believed they had a chance at victory. Even three years ago, when she had been little more than a dewy-eyed, callow admiral's daughter, the revelation of the Reaper threat had admittedly terrified her, but she had strongly believed in a brighter future. Because the man who led them, who led her, had been one of the most courageous soldiers she had ever met. A man of unquenchable curiosity, unfiltered kindness and impregnable conviction. There was no else like him. He could somehow make an insurmountable obstacle seem like a pushover.

His name was Commmander Jonathan Brandon Shepard. Alliance marine. N7 special operations commander. First human spectre. Hero of the Citadel. Tali had been in awe of him.

Keelah, she had a _crush_ for the man. Back then, she'd have been ashamed to admit it. Now she embraced it.

There was a reason why so many had been willing to follow this commander into battle, why aliens and humans alike had flocked to his cause and taken his words to heart. Why they were willing to die by his side, and walk right into a den of nightmares with him. He was a soldier who won battles just as much with words as he did with his rifle, and he had a moral code so strong that few situations or people could cause him to compromise it. He wouldn't resort to violence unless it was necessary, he was understanding of his subordinates and a friend to most of them, and the loyalty he inspired was a direct result of these qualities. He was atypical. Different. He seemed too good to be true, the result of a character too perfect to be real...and yet she _had_ met him.

He was the finest man she had, and would ever, meet. He brought hope to the hopeless. Tali had been very hopeless, but that had all changed when she joined his squad all those years ago. Their campaign against the cunning Saren Arterius and his geth legions had been, up until that point, the most terrifying, but thrilling, adventures of her life. By the end of it, she had felt invincible. A tiny quarian, insignificant amongst the bigger picture, but now a member of a company of galactic heroes. Her misfortune at the time had been completely reversed.

And, at the same time, she had felt something...more.

The crush she had on Shepard was hardly a secret, really. She had tried her best to hide it, but the more and more time she spent with him, the more her feelings developed. And the more they did, the more it hurt. Because she knew she could never have him, and he would never choose her. There were many others he could be with her, including an asari and a human marine, and she was just a quarian whose face he could not see whenever he wished. Her chances were nearly zero, even despite her...physical attributes that she knew males of many species found appealing. She had given up on ever being with him, but her feelings had remained persistent, and continued to get stronger, which made the reality of her situation all the more painful.

A month after the Battle of the Citadel, the _Normandy_ was attacked and destroyed by the Collectors...and Shepard was killed whilst making sure the remnants of his surviving crew got out. Tali remembered crying for hours after the attack, stuck in an escape pod full of crew members who hardly knew her, unable to keep her emotions in check. It had been the most horrible moment of her life, and when the crew went their separate ways a week later, and Tali returned to the Fleet...she had felt empty. Despite getting a hero's welcome to the Fleet, and receiving a hero's treatment by getting to serve on one of the finest ships of the Flotilla and rising through the ranks of the Migrant Fleet marines...she hadn't cared. All she acknowledged was her failure to save her commander when he needed her. He had saved her life, and she had never gotten a chance to repay the favor. She had lost a friend. Someone...someone she loved.

As luck would have it, the two years she spent recovering were wasted with his sudden return. He had died, but Cerberus...the very people Shepard had fought to destroy...had brought him back to life to fight the Collectors, and to continue their battle with the Reapers. Their enemy became a reluctant ally, and Tali had rejoiced. She had joined his crew again when she had the chance without question, and it had almost felt like old times.

But things were different. There was tension between them, and she hadn't known the source of it until months later, just a week after her trial.

Shepard confessed his feelings to her, and she had felt like melting into a puddle in his arms. Her surreptitious dream had crashed head on into a serendipity unlike any other she had experienced, and she had wanted to tear off her mask and kiss him right there and then. To have her...fantasy, as she had labelled it, turn out to be real...to have her feelings reciprocated by a man she had come to admire and respect beyond measure...it truly was like something out of a unrealistic romance novel. She had resolved to be with him no matter the cost to herself. Even if, worst case scenario, she was to die...it would have been worth it.

She had watched him die. Been forced to listen to his last breaths, knowing he was leaving this world without ever being told. Even if she was rejected, she had needed him to know...and she had believed back then that she had lost her chance. She would not make that mistake twice. Not when he was right there with her. Even if their suicide mission resulted in their deaths, they would be together before that eventuated. Its all she wanted.

And he wanted too.

Once again, that feeling of invulernability returned. As cheesy as it sounded, her love for Shepard, and his reciprocation of it, had only made her need to survive that much more powerful. She wanted them to have more time together, and it seemed cruel and unfair for them to share a single moment of pleasure and ecstasy together, only to die the next day. She wanted many more nights of harmony. She had never been more sure of anything in her life.

They spent their final hours together well. They made the most out of an act of desperation. They had come out of it with a promise: they would watch each other's backs, and make sure they both got out of there alive. The Collector Base would not be their grave. Their tomb. They would not die there.

Tali believed it. His speech made her believe it. The feel of them united made her believe it. The sound of his beating heart made her believe it. She had resolved to fight proudly, viciously and uncompromisingly. She would not surrender or give into despair. Shepard had given her a taste of what their future could be, and she fought for that. Nothing could defeat them. Their victory was inevitable. And with Shepard at the helm, the Reapers had little hope for a quick, clean triumph. They could win. They _would_ win.

For the majority of the battle through the Collector Base, it had seemed Tali's confidence was paying off. The Illusive Man had wished them good luck. They had circumnavigated the Tartarus debris field: an ancient graveyard packed to the brim full of long-gone travellers who had also passed through the Omega 4 Relay, but hadn't lived to tell the tale. They had tackled the Collector cruiser, and avenged the _Normandy_. They had fought through the Base's many horrors, and come out on top. Their squad, an experimental group of unlikely comrades, had triumphed over every obstacle _Harbinger_ had thrown their way, often with brutal efficiency. Shepard had pushed through it all, leading them with the fire and bravado that came from a man with years of experience, and an iron will so indomitable that not even the Reapers could penetrate it.

It had been her pleasure to fight by his side. To know that, for the first time, they were fighting side-by-side as not just friends or subordinates, but lovers. It was the type of comraderie that ensured one never needed to watch their backs...it was being watched for them.

When the time came to confront the monstrosity the Collectors had abducted hundreds of thousands of people to construct, Shepard had chosen Tali to come with him, along with Jack. They weren't going to separate now. They ascended to the chamber, battled the Human-Reaper, and told the Illusive Man where to stuff it. In a horrifying moment of fear, she had nearly fallen to her death as the Human-Reaper's death throes toppled the platform they were on...but just like before, Shepard swooped down and saved her at the last minute, adding to the times she owed him.

They had fallen. They had made their run for it. The _Normandy_ rose to save them from the Collector hordes that pursued the three, and Tali's heart had never pumped faster. Shepard fell behind, his heavy armor causing him to fall behind while Tali's longer, more powerful legs allowed her to outpace him very quickly, the quarian not being aware of the distance she had created between them until she was in the airlock, and saw that he wasn't yet.

She shouted at him to keep running, his shields sparking and vibrating violently as Collector bullets chased after him. Their eyes locked, and she saw the will to live burning within them. She screamed for him to keep running, to make the final jump. He made the visible effort to do so, grunting loudly as he reached the edge...and lunged.

He missed.

She reacted in a flash, dropping down and grabbing his arms just as he slid over the edge, hanging onto the edge of the ship for dear life. Her arms roared in agony as the stress of a heavy human body decked in combat armor weighed down on them, but she refused to let go. Tears poured from her eyes as the pain became enormous, almost blinding, but still she had held on. She had cried for help, and it came. Garrus grabbed her by the waist, and Legion by her legs. They heaved desperately, but even their combined weight wasn't enough. Still, Tali didn't let go. She sobbed, grunted...the pain was so unimaginable that it felt like her arms would snap. Still, she held, unyielding.

Collector fire poured their way, with the squad doing their best to draw it away. Shepard and Tali's eyes never left each other, both of them terrified. He couldn't see the tears fogging up her mask as the realization of their situation set in. Tali was reminded of what happened mere minutes before, their roles now reversed. She cried out in her mind for some saving grace to swoop in and rescue them, but none came.

He smiled at her. It was the most haunting memory she had of him.

Because it was the last smile she'd see.

"I love you."

The weight left her arms, a relief flowing up them that felt like cool water dousing a fire. But there was nothing remotely relieving about it.

She screamed as she watched Shepard fall, having worked his way out of her grip while she was concentrated on saving him. She reached out to him, willing her arms to extend as far as they were needed, but it was a useless gesture. All she could do was kick, scream and yell her defiance as she watched Shepard plummet from view, the _Normandy_ turning around and shooting out of the base, Garrus and Legion combining their strength to get her inside the ship before it entered FTL. She demanded they turn back. Despite knowing they only had a minute before the Base exploded, she had futilely believed they could still save him.

She remembered that day too well. It was the day the war was lost before it had begun.

What she hardly remembered were the days succeeding that fateful battle. The many days and nights she had spent alone and miserable in Shepard's... _their_ cabin. She hadn't known what she was doing. Why she was alive, what she was meant to do, what her hopes and aspirations were...none of it. All of it had died when Shepard slipped from her hands, falling into the abyss where he would never be seen again. Most of her had died with him when he took that plunge, and all that was left was a lifeless husk, going through the motions, trying to find some semblance of meaning in the horrible galaxy she lived in.

Food held little taste. She hadn't even wanted to set foot on the rest of the ship, and didn't even join the crew during their memorial service the day after. She hadn't let anyone inside. Most of her days had been spent in that cabin, alternating between sobbing, or when she could no longer form tears, lying on her side on the bed, gripping the sheets tightly and trying to get lost in what little happy memories she had with him.

She had lost her mother. Then her father. And now him. She had lost everything most dear to her.

On the eighteenth day, upon arriving at the Citadel to get repairs made to the ship with what little funds EDI had managed to steal from Cerberus after their departure from the organization, Tali had contemplated suicide. It had been a brief, fleeting moment of weakness. She had eyed her boot knife, even gotten to the point of removing it and running her finger along the blade. The temptation was there. The thought pattern had developed. She had been ready to do it...

...and then she remembered Shepard, and the blade had returned to her sheath. She acknowledged how selfish her thoughts had been, and what the crew would think...what Garrus, who had been hit almost as hard by Shepard's death as she had been, would think. The poor turian had suffered as well...to lose both his friends would be something he'd never recover from. But what was perhaps the most important reasoning in her mind for not going through with it was Shepard himself.

He wasn't here with her anymore. But he wouldn't want her to take her own life. He'd want her to move on. To stay strong. To continue the fight in his stead. It would be an insult to him for her to give up all he had fought for. They had gotten this far...why not finish the fight?

It was hard. Keelah, it was. The urge was overpowering at times, but she ultimately knew it was wrong. Selfish. Shepard wouldn't want it. And she loved him too much to betray him like that, even if he was no longer here with her. She would feel lonely. She would feel vulnerable. She would feel lost and she might even dance amongst the flames of despair. But she would never do _that_ to him.

Not yet anyway. Not until the war was won. Not until she kept a promise she made to him, one that seemed like it had been made so very long ago...

The day she 'returned' to the fold was the day the crew decided on their new commander. With Shepard gone, this time for good, the crew needed a new leader from this point forward: Shepard may be gone, but the Reapers weren't going anywhere, and somebody needed to spearhead their efforts in his stead.

Miranda and Garrus were the only real candidates. Miranda was officially his XO, and Garrus unofficially. Both were the strongest leaders of the team, and both of them were good candidates for the position.

It pained her to make a choice. To know she was effectivelly choosing her _neh'sah_ 's replacement. The full reality of their situation hadn't completely set in yet, memories of bliss and happiness still too recent for the grim horror of when and where she stood to fully cement in her mind. She existed in a state of flux, fluctuating between living in the past and succumbing to her new world.

She willed herself to do what needed to be done. Her decision was somewhat biased, but she also knew it had an element of objectivity to it. She knew who Shepard wanted for his successor. Who he wanted continuing the fight should he have fallen. There was only one member that he had groomed for that position, that he had taken under his wing and mentored.

Garrus was the obvious choice for her, as it was for the crew. Garrus was their new commander. Despite the melancholy undertone of the whole event, Garrus promised to try and live up to Shepard's name, and finish the Reapers once and for all. It was a bold, impossible task: to take up the reins of a man of Shepard's calibre, but she had been confident Garrus could make it work. He had to. For all their sakes.

She had raised a toast, like the rest of the crew: a human thing. Garrus had taken her aside afterwards and asked how she was. The topic of Shepard was still too tender: she fell apart, splitting apart like a dam, a flood of built up emotions crashing down and almost causing her to collapse. Garrus had grabbed her, holding her tightly in an embrace. It wasn't intimate. She was like a sister to him, and he was a brother to her. They made a promise to look after each other. Garrus promised things would get better.

They didn't. They got worse.

Whatever illusions existed of their ability to take up the torch were quickly dashed as the months passed. Cerberus chased them across the galaxy, the Illusive Man wanting to reclaim his property and defecting crew, likely to prevent intelligence leaks. The crew fought them off, but time spent running was time lost in building up support for the coming war. Liara, after nearly being killed by Tela Vasir on Illium, assaulted the Shadow Broker's base, but lost her friend Feron in the process. Then came the worst blow to the crew.

News spread through the galaxy like wildfire: the Bahak system had been destroyed. When poked for answers through old Alliance channels, most notably Admiral Hackett, the crew learned the truth: Lieutenant Commander Ashley Williams led a team of Alliance Marine Corps Blue Falcon special forces to rescue a Doctor Amanda Kenson and, with one thing leading to another, rammed an asteroid into the Alpha Relay and destroying it, stopping the Reapers from using it to enter the galaxy earlier than they predicted. The energy released wiped out an entire solar system.

The cost? Three hundred thousand lives...and Ash and her team's lives. The crew had lost another friend. Tali and Ashley had been very close, having developed a very sister like relationship. She didn't take the news with grace. She broke down in Shepard's cabin that evening.

A few days later, Tali returned to the Migrant Fleet, having been made admiral in her father's stead. She hoped she could make a difference, help Garrus and the _Normandy_ secure an ally in the coming fight...but all she did was get roped into a renewed war with the geth. Eight months later, her people were on the brink of extinction when the _Normandy_ swooped in to save the day.

But the news only worsened. Earth and Khar'Shan had fallen to the Reapers, with Anderson and most of the Alliance brass killed in the initial invasion of the human homeworld. What little hope they secured on Mars thanks to Liara and intel on a prothean superweapon was snuffed out when Jacob was killed by a Cerberus agent named Kai Leng on Gellix, along with all the defecting Cerberus scientists he was protecting. Cerberus launched a massive invasion of the Citadel, and despite Garrus' efforts to stop the attack, Leng returned as a thorn in his side, successfully eliminating the Citadel Council. The invasion ultimately failed, but the Council that replaced the old one was nowhere near as effective, and to put it in Garrus' words, it was almost like they're back to square one. They managed to secure a living prothean ally on Eden Prime and he was made a spectre, but all of that was made irrelevant by the greatest defeat of the war so far: the krogan.

The look in Garrus' eyes when he told her about that haunted her. When she looked into his eyes she could only feel her despair boiling back to the top, watching as all the confidence he had radiated was sapped from him like blood from a wound. He was slumped and defeated, weary and broken...his fighting spirit was gone, and Tali knew from that moment, without even needing to hear what he said next, that the war truly was lost.

They had found Mordin. He developed a cure for the genophage. Wrex was poised to have his people cured, and deliver them as an ally to the UGC: a galactic alliance of every Milky Way species in the galaxy, or at least intended to be in eventuality. Everything was going fine...until Garrus received a call from Dalatrass Linron. She would offer the full support of the salarian fleets if Garrus allowed the Shroud's countermeasures to sabotage the cure without Mordin or Wrex knowing.

Garrus chose the salarians. When Mordin found out, he insisted upon releasing the cure. Left with no choice, Garrus gunned down his former friend. When Wrex found out, and he was always going to find out, he confronted his turian friend...his _family_...on the Citadel. They argued. Wrex drew his gun. Garrus drew his. Wrex was the most powerful krogan they'd ever faced...but Garrus had faced many, and come to know their weaknesses quite intimately.

Much of that knowledge came from Wrex himself. Perhaps ironically, it proved to be his demise.

There were no words to say. She shivered. Trembled, actually. Numbness overcame her, but she did not cry. Her tears had long run dry, loss and misery commonplace in her life. She had lost her mother, father, Shepard, Ashley...and now Wrex. She didn't know Mordin well, but Wrex...he was like an uncle to her. He had always treated her well, even back on the old _Normandy_. He was like a krogan uncle she never had, teaching her most of the things she knows about shotguns today, and half of her combat skill could be attributed to him. As a result, he loved her like a niece. The thought of him being betrayed by someone he considered a brother, who he trusted implicitly, and to be gunned down like an animal...it wasn't fair. It was horrible.

She slapped him. He deserved it, and he knew it. She would regret it later, but not in that moment. She shouted obscenities at him. Called him every vulgar khelish word she could think of. The whole time, she wondered how Shepard would have handled it. What would have changed if he was still around. It only made it worse.

Things didn't improve. When the time came to liberate Rannoch, they came across the signal that controlled all geth and bound them to the Reapers' will: a Reaper itself. Despite nearly dying, it was eventually brought down by orbital bombardment. They are then confronted with a terrible choice: with Gerrel attacking the geth fleet and unwilling to stand down, and Legion uploading the Reaper code to all geth that will make them stronger again, Garrus was forced to make a difficult decision: save the geth, or save the quarians.

She felt bad for Legion...she really did. She wanted peace. But in an 'us vs them', her people always came first. She was a quarian, not a geth. Loyalty demanded she fight for her people. She would do what was necessary.

Garrus gave her a look that spoke a million words. It was the same haunted look he gave her when he revealed he had killed Wrex. The look of defeat. The look of someone who truly had lost hope.

And with it, her heart felt like it shrivelled up and died right there and then.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, right before she raised her shotgun, aimed it at Legion's back, and pulled the trigger. Four times.

She held Legion as the platform shut down. She willed herself to weep...to show she cared. Because she did. But she had suffered too much loss. She was immune to it.

She was as much a husk as the actual husks that served in the Reaper armies.

With the geth wiped out and Rannoch reclaimed, the Migrant Fleet was free to join the UGC. Upon returning to the galactic fold, Tali discovered things hadn't improved there either. Aria had launched an unsuccessful invasion of Omega, with her forces defeated and Aria herself slain in battle. The UGC launched a second, more successful offensive, but the result was a tremendous loss of life and materials that could have been used against the Reapers. Cerberus was ousted from Omega, but at great cost.

Thessia fell to the Reapers. The key to ultimate victory against them secured by Cerberus, and stolen from their clutches. They pursued Leng to Horizon, only to find yet another Cerberus shop of horrors. Miranda was there. She fought Leng, but lost. In one last act of defiance, she killed her father and saved her sister, before dying in Garrus' arms. Again, Tali felt nothing. She found the tracking device Miranda stuck to Leng. It led them straight to Cerberus HQ.

They could finally get payback.

And now here they were: with the majority of the UGC fleet, what little there was, bringing an end to Cerberus, securing the catalyst so they can activate the Crucible and defeat the Reapers once and for all. This mission was everything. This is where everything would either be made worth it, or totally worthless. Some meaning had to be derived from the bloodbath. Something had to be achieved, or it was all for nothing. They could not fail.

 _We've already failed. Defeat after defeat doesn't lead to victory._

The war was lost, and it had been for a while. Tali really wasn't sure what she was personally fighting for anymore.

 _My mother's dead. My father's dead. Shepard's dead. The geth are gone. The galaxy is in ruins. Most of my friends are dead. Garrus is a broken man. I'm a broken woman. There's nothing left to look forward to. Only a house I'll have to build on my own, to live in for the rest of my days on my own, to grow old in and die on my own._

 _On my own. Alone. That's what awaits me. The better tomorrow._

 _There is no tomorrow. No future. I'll live alone, die alone. That will be my legacy. The legacy of us all._

So when Tali fired her shotgun again, watching the blast bisect a nemesis' face like a watermelon, she wasn't doing it out of survival or to protect herself. She did it because the satisfaction of killing her enemies was the only actual organic emotion she felt anymore. She was simply an empty vessel, carrying out orders dished out by the brain. No life remained. None of the tenants of organic life remained to flare or provoke. She was a killing machine. And when the killing stopped, she would rust and rot away...until there was nothing left.

The entire station shook under the combined bombardment of UGC ships outside. While Hackett had given clear orders not to target the station outside of neutralizing its defensive armaments until their own personnel were clear of it, stray shots from ship-to-ship mass acellerators couldn't be helped or predicted. It was entirely possible Cerberus was even firing upon their own station to precipitate asset denial. They had proven their ruthlessness in the past, as Tali had seen first hand. They were not ones to shy away from pointless slaughter, especially if it preserved their sick and twisted views.

A support beam nearby collapsed from the ceiling, falling and crushing a centurion and two guardians underneath its weight, blood and guts splattering across the floor like dots of paint on a canvas, their bodies violently exploding due to the crushing influence of the beam that landed on them. What few Cerberus foot soldiers remained were quickly mowed down by the squad, and they all took a chance to catch their breath.

Except Tali.

As she continued marching forward, ignoring the exhaustion that festered in her tired muscles and bones, Garrus called out to her, "Tali, stop. We've been going for an hour or two straight. Take a damn breather."

"According to EDI's schematics, the Illusive Man's chamber is just up ahead. I'm not planning on giving him a chance to escape," she bluntly declared, not stopping.

"He's got nowhere to run," the turian argued, his voice getting closer. He was going to try and stop her, "Tali, seriously, _stop_."

"No," she spat, upping her pace, "You can take a break. I'm going to keep going and make that _bosh'tet_ pay for everything he is done."

She felt his hand brush her arm. But she had expected such an action, and prepared for it. Lowering her left shoulder blade quickly, she denied him the chance to grasp it, and thus use his superior turian strength to pin her down. With this in mind, she then lunged forward, out of his reach, and then proceeded into a run, which then escalated into a sprint as she made a mad dash for the door, hardly exchanging a word.

"TALI!" he shouted after her, but she didn't stop. She wouldn't. She couldn't. Vengeance rested behind that door. Revenge for all the pain Cerberus had caused her.

And the chance to make good on a promise she would never break.

Racing through the door, she didn't stop, not even stopping to lock the door, thus ensuring Garrus couldn't stop her. No, she just kept running. And running. Exhaustion screamed at her to take a break as Garrus advised her, but she didn't have time for such a triviality. She had a job to do, and she would do it. That was her only purpose in life. The only thing she had left when the bastards had taken everything else.

Finally, she arrived. In a rush, but unable to forget the military training that was engrained into her being, she cautiously walked through the last door with her shotgun raised. She had emerged into the Illusive Man's chamber, his 'inner sanctum'. The circular, black tiled chamber with a panoramic view of a gigantic star that the Illusive Man himself resided, commanding Cerberus operations across the galaxy and where he had plotted the _Normandy_ crew's destruction. It would also be where they ended the organization. Where _she_ ended it.

"Tali'Zorah," came a voice from the middle of the room, a puff of smoke sizzling into the air from where a shadowy figure sat, dressed in the finest clothing money could buy, nicely combed brown hair, inhumanly blue eyes and a glass of expensive liquor on his arm rest, "What an unexpected surprise."

As she moved further into the room, the door closing behind her, she approached the shadowy figure. She knew immediately who he was by the way he sat, the way he talked, and the way in which he addressed her. This was the Illusive Man, the seemingly nameless leader of Cerberus. His seat was turned to face her direction, and nothing in his posture suggested he looked remotely worried about the quarian pointing a shotgun straight at him. Not even the battle that took place within his breathtaking view seemed to faze him, the endless dance of UGC and Cerberus fighters taking place above and around them, explosions and ships spitting fire at one another accompanying the scene.

The fall of Cerberus was in progress, and yet the Illusive Man looked just as confident as the day the _Normandy_ went through the Omega 4 Relay.

She didn't respond to his statement, simply falling still as her shotgun remained levelled at him. She watched the gears turn in his mind: the frown at her lack of a response, clearly an indicator that he wishes to gauge a reaction from her, and having failed at that, was now moving to plan B, flicking his cigarette in the ash tray beside him as he let it settle there, "Not going to say anything? My agents had you pegged as the self-effacing, demure type...but never the silent type."

"Clearly I've changed," Tali finally mouthed. Her tone was dry and unemotional. His jabs could not faze her. Nothing ever would again.

He looked somewhat impressed by that, "War changes people in the most nefarious ways. Shepard always adored you. I could never see why until I took a look at your dossier, but I've always seen you as the weak link in his unit. Your engineering skills undoubtably exemplary, to the point of leaving my own engineer corps woefully second-rate, but never the best warrior or fighter. But it appears the woman I see before me is no longer that weak link. You would not be standing here, alone, if you were. Perhaps Shepard's praise was not undeserved."

Upon hearing his name, she tensed up, practically growling, "Don't you _dare_ speak his name."

The Illusive Man was not deterred by her display however, only emboldened, "Yes, he adored you quite a lot. To the point of suspicion, in fact. He placed great emphasis on your involvement in the crew. I found his rush to get to Haestrom quite suspect, considering how much less...reckless he was with other field missions. You can imagine my disbelief and concern when a four billion credit investment ran straight at a colossus-type geth unit and an entire geth platoon with no support of any kind, all so he could rescue a single quarian. I did not voice my concern because he ultimately made it out alive, but it definitely peeked my interest."

The shotgun shook in her hands, "I said-"

"He was infatuated with you, wasn't he?" the Illusive Man abrasively queried, soulless blue eyes uncompromising in their interrogative demolition of her resolve, "And you were infatuated with him. Two idealogues, the both of you. I saw the money he spent on anti-bacterial soaps, creams and other ointments. He used Cerberus funds to purchase them, so of course I would know about it. These weren't mission critical items. Inexpensive, so I let it slide, but it confirmed my suspicions. Nobody just purchases specialized anti-bacterial ointments, especially after downloading a copy of 'Human-Quarian sexual relations' from the extranet."

Her hands were trembling now, and she resisted the urge to pull the trigger. The Illusive Man either didn't care, or was doing a masterful job of hiding that he did, "I admit it...I'm not ashamed of it...I was his, and he was mine..."

"And you lost him," he delivered the icy blow like he was reading the line of an essay, his provocative conveyance taking no prisoners and leaving no stone unturned, "Four billion credits...gone...all because of an obsession. Perhaps if he had not been so worried for your safety, he might still be alive. But he's not, and the galaxy is paying the price for his, and your, weakness. I hope your love was worth it."

Her trembling stopped. She tensed up again, fire burning in her heart. Only one emotion returned: fury. She would not stand here and listen to this _bek'pa_ talk about her _neh'sah_ like that. How dare he, "It was _totally_ worth it."

"I would hope so," he stated. He took one final sip of his glass, placing it back down as his hands clasped in his lap, his face passive and expressionless as always, "But with Shepard gone, it now falls to me to save this galaxy. I will use the Crucible to control the Reapers, and bring stability to the Milky Way. If your people are smart, they will accept what I offer them. Its just a pity you will not be around to see the new world I will help build."

"You're not going anywhere, _bosh'tet_ ," she snarled.

"Neither are you," he snapped back, "Leng, rid me of this problem."

She felt a presence behind her. She didn't think twice before acting.

"With pleasure, sir."

She dove to the right, ducking into a roll just as a thin metal blade sliced through the air where her head was, narrowly missing her by inches. Quickly emerging from her roll, she turned, took aim at the assassin, and fired everything she had at him.

Recovering from his failed attempt, he raised his hand and she watched as his shield gauntlet absorbed each blast from her shotgun. The arrogant degenerate had the nerve to smirk, watching with perverted glee as she continued firing, each shot proving just as useless as the last. He approached her, but Tali did not back away. She would stand her ground.

Given her shotgun's overall ineffectiveness at that given moment, she switched to her secondary weapon. Reaching into her pocket, she simultaneously activated her omni-tool and pulled out Chatika's projector sphere and tossed it in Leng's direction. At the same time, she brought up her omni-tool and levelled four consecutive overload pulses directly to Leng's field, hoping to shatter it with brute force EMP blasts.

It worked. As Chatika activated beside Leng, the orange holographic sphere springing to life with a flash, the assassin grunted as his shield gauntlet was quickly overwhelmed the amount of EMPs levelled at it. As he shook his hand in frustration, he growled in anger as Chatika shocked him with an electrical pulse, turning his attention away from Tali almost entirely from a brief window of time.

Which she took full advantage of.

In perhaps a moment of foolishness, she charged him with her shotgun, blinded by rage. She fired her last two shots, then ejected the spent clip, slapped in a new one, and resumed firing. She never stopped, knowing that if she allowed him even a small window of time to recuperate, it would be the end for her. She could not hope to take him on in a battle of attrition: his cybernetics, athletic capability and special operations experience meant she was no match for him. Her only hope was to end this quickly.

For a moment, it seemed like it would work. He flinched back as each shot now impacted his main kinetic barrier, which shook and buckled under the pressure. Designed to defend against kinetic projectiles, it was ill-equipped for geth directed energy weaponry, and the concentrated bursts of plasma were making short work of even Leng's advanced shielding. It wouldn't be long before they shattered completely, and plasma melted armor, and then flesh.

Leng was not invincible. He could be killed. And she would prove it.

But she had underestimated him again, and in the brief moment it took for her to reload, he reacted. He swiped his hand through the air, knocking Chatika out of the way in a brutal backhand that didn't destroy the drone, but sent it flying off course. With the drone no longer there to keep him pinned, he spun around with lightning reflexes, grabbed a hold of her shotgun, and gripped it hard. She tried to pull back, but she knew it was a lost cause, and let go.

He tossed the weapon aside, and before she could reach for her pistol, he swiped at her with his sword. She ducked back, but not fast enough this time.

She nearly cried out as his sword messily tore through the upper portion of her suit, starting from her lower waist all the way up to her collarbone. If she hadn't made the adjustments to her suit that added armoured padding, she might have been exposed to open air, but as it was, only her veil was a casualty. She watched with some sadness as her veil, the same one her mother had worn and passed down to her, fell to the floor, leaving the back of her head exposed.

She didn't further time to mourn as Leng pressed his attack. Retreating steadily, she opened her omni-tool and unleashed everything she possessed. Leng flinched, dodged and grunted as he was hit with EMPs and incendiary blasts. His omni-tool went haywire as she assaulted it with so much malware and other viruses that it literally crashed, unable to handle the input of garbage data that was filling its memory banks. The full might of her technical abilities were levelled at Leng.

Unfortunately, it wasn't enough. Whatever Leng had been outfitted with, it truly was state-of-the-art. While she had ensured his omni-tool was now completely useless, his kinetic barriers were able to replenish at an antonishing rate, recharging within seconds of being depleted. He was soon able to predict many of her attacks, and it wasn't long before he was dodging most of them. She did her best to make sure he couldn't close the distance, but eventually, he just _lunged_ , speed tackling her to the floor in a brutish move that left the air exploding from her lungs and wheezing, her ribs badly bruised from the roughhousing she had received.

 _Get up. Keelah, get up. Don't let it end like this! Kill this bastard!_

Hoping to get him before he could fully pin her down, she pushed through her fatigue and lashed out with one powerful kick to his midsection. The action was enough to put him off balance, stopping him from fully pinning her down. Leaping at his hesitation, she summoned Chatika to continue its assault.

Gripping his sword for one final blow, the human animal cried out as an incendiary blast hit him square in the back. His face launched forward, only to be met by Tali's foot as she sent it careening straight into his nose. He roared as his nose broke, bits of teeth shattering in his mouth, leaving blood to explode freely across his face. She took the opportunity to slip out from under his weight, moving to stand up.

"Go Chatika, aim for his face!" she shouted, cheering her drone on.

Her victory would, as always, be short-lived.

There was a cry as a sword sliced through the air, driven by malevolent intent. Tali watched in horror as the blade carried on mercilessly, before hitting the floor with a clang.

Joining it, not long after its descent, were the two bissected pieces of a destroyed combat drone.

"No more fucking drones, you quarian bitch," Leng spat, wiping his face of any blood obscuring his vision. His teeth bared viciously, gritting through the pain of bits of broken tooth rolling around inside his mouth. He was like a rabid dog: ignoring all pain and blinded by pure adrenaline, hate and rage. This man was bred to kill. And Tali was woefully out of her depth. As she circled around him, hoping he wouldn't notice that she was heading towards her shotgun, which still lay on the floor where he had thrown it, she watched him aiming his sword at her, using it to point at the quarian, "When I get my hands on you, you're going to wish for a painless death, suit-rat. I'm going to take great joy from killing Shepard's whore."

Seeing the murderous gleam that seemed to shine in the eyes she could not see, she knew he meant what he said. She continued back tracking towards the Illusive Man, hoping to reach her shotgun before Leng figured out what she was doing.

Less than a few meters from it, she turned and made her move. She sprinted towards her weapon, sliding across the ground to boost her speed until she reached it, swiping up the weapon in one fell swoop. Clutching it tightly, she primed it for firing, whirling around to fire upon the assassin as he rushed towards he-

PAIN!

She cried out as she felt cold steel pierce through her sternum, slicing effortlessly through her armoured chest and through the suit, exiting cleanly through her back. It took her a section to realize what had happened, watching as Leng approached from a few meters away, grinning wickedly and with evil intent. She could scarcely notice the Illusive Man sitting in her periphery, serving as a silent observer to her demise, but she hardly acknowledged him. Instead, her eyes lowered down to her chest, shotgun falling from her limp fingers to clatter to the ground, as she saw the object of her damnation wedged firmly within her chest.

She dumbly reached down and clutched the sword, which was almost buried down to the hilt. The sensation felt odd: cold, yet stingingly warm. Agonizingly painful, yet startingly comforting. Leng had thrown the sword at her with such force that it had made short work of the armor protecting her chest, which was designed to deflect bullets and shrapnel, not the conventional blade. Finally, she gasped, trying to drawn in breath, only for her to cough as a result, a warm, coppery dab of liquid spilling from her lips to stain her otherwise unblemished chin.

Blood. And from her wheezing, her worst fear came to light. A punctured lung.

She collapsed to her knees, her breaths becoming laboured, exceedingly tormenting and tainted with gurgles as blood rushed to fill the usually air-filled cavity. She tried to stand up, to continue fighting, but it was useless. Her hand reached down and removed her pistol, raising it to take aim at Leng, only to find her vision was beginning to blur, the severe depletion in oxygen causing her to become dizzy. As such, her first shot went wide, missing the assassin by meters. The next shot hit Leng, but bumped off his shields. She never got a third shot, with Leng casually batting her hand aside with his leg, knocking the pistol from her grip to land uselessly off to the side. Kneeling beside her, he grabbed the back of her head, turning it up to look at him.

Even through her dizziness, she saw enough of his smile to feel sick to her stomach, "I expected more of a fight from the woman Commander Shepard himself took to his bed. Guess his taste in women isn't as strong as his misguided idealism would suggest. Miss Lawson put up much more of a fight."

 _Noooo...can't...let him...win..._

"I'm going to kill you now," he admitted to her blanketly, "Unlike with Lawson, I'm going to savor this. I just want you to promise me one thing: tell Shepard who sent you to join him, and let him know that _I_ win. I want him to know that, in the end, I was the better man, and he wasn't."

 _Don't you...talk about him...that way..._

 _A promise to keep..._

 _Can't let him live..._

 _He'll kill you!_

 _I'm dead already..._

"Nothing to say?" he asked, looking disappointed, "Not going to beg for your life?"

 _I won't give you the satisfaction, bastard._

"Well, don't worry," he mockingly reassured her, patting the top of her head as he stood up to rip his sword out of her chest, "You'll soon change your tune once I've tweaked you abit. Tell me, which part of you did Shepard enjoy most? Your cunt or your face? Do you suit-rats even have either of those? I imagine Shepard was quite the xenophile, so he'd probably fuck anything, the pervert."

 _Bastard...don't you dare talk about him...he was a good man! He was my_ _ **neh'sah!**_

 _Avenge him! Fulfill the promise!_

As Leng began to pull the sword from her chest, she discreetly removed her boot knife from its sheath and plunged it straight into his right kneecap. She enjoyed the crunch of bone and the wet snap of muscle as the blade plunged clean through. Leng screamed from the unexpected motion, and groaned pitifully as she twisted it within the wound. He quickly recovered, as he always did, and punched her across the face, sending her collapsing to the floor. She watched as her mask shattered from the impact, shards of glass sent flying as her body was now left at the mercy of open air exposure, harmful bacteria rushing into her suit like a plague. She wheezed again, entering a coughing fit as thick pustules of blood erupted like a geyser from her mouth, staining the inside of her suit and soaking her chin. Her eyelids felt heavy, and whatever energy she had left evaporated from her body. A large, purple bruise began to form around her right eye from Leng's punch, and she knew her nose was now broken due to the fresh rush of blood fountaining down her jaw and lips, and the pain eminating from that region.

"Fucking cunt!" Leng spat, continuing to groan in agony, "You'll pay for that!"

He sent a kick flying into her back, her body arching from the blow. She was numb to the agony now, knowing that it would all be over soon and allowing that to comfort her.

 _I'm...I'm coming, John. I'm...I'm just sorry...that I didn't put up...a bigger fight...in the end..._

"Nobody's coming for you," Leng continued, pulling her back up to her knees so that she could face him again. He looked momentarily surprised at seeing her exposed face for the first time, having obviously expected an ugly alien and not the human-like face he was looking at now. He quickly recovered however, grabbing her by the throat, bringing his face inches from hers, "Vakarian and his squad are currently occupied with my phantoms. By the time they get here, you'll be dead, and then I'll kill them. So go ahead and cry for me, bitch. Cry and maybe I'll take pity and make this quick."

"Don't drag this out, Leng," came the Illusive Man who, until now, had remained quiet, "I told you to kill her, not torture her. Dispatch of her and then call in my shuttle."

"You promised me I could have her," Leng snapped back, "That if we got our hands on Shepard's whore, I could torture her as long as I like."

The Illusive Man didn't take kindly to Leng's insubordinate attitude, "That was before. We're currently under siege and now is not the time for your little games. Kill her and be done with it."

In the time it took for Leng and the Illusive Man to have their brief argument, Tali had been thinking. She thought quickly, but she thought hard. She decided to lose herself in a memory, a particular memory...it was a strategy she had used to keep herself together over the passing months, to help her stand the misery of her pitiful existence. Sometimes she would get lost in the memory of her first and only night with Shepard, their two bodies wrapped together under the sheets, lips eagerly exploring their mutually alien bodies, Shepard thrusting in and out of her while she held onto him lovingly, his body like a security blanket that kept her warm, safe and away from harm. She liked to think her embrace kept him safe from harm too. Other times she would think of conversations she's had with him, or with her mother when she was still alive.

But one memory came to mind in that moment, and was seized by the moment at hand. The memory of a promise. One she never thought she'd have to keep.

 _She didn't like Jacob at first. He was Cerberus. Cerberus hurt her people. Cerberus was her enemy. That made Jacob her enemy. At least for now. She didn't like how he sucked up to her, how he tried to win her trust or the confident way in which he looked at her, as if appraising an asset. She wasn't looking for his approval. The only approval she was looking for came from the only man in this room at this given moment that she trusted more than anyone else, "Look, I don't know or care who you are. Cerberus launched an unprovoked attack on the Migrant Fleet that led to the massacre of innocent civilians. So don't play nice."_

 _Jacob didn't like that. He seemed disappointed. He wanted her to like him. Good, she had disappointed him. This man would need to earn her trust before she put any stock in his feelings about her. Shepard however seemed to smile, not necessarily at Jacob's expense, but simply from seeing a friend again. Perhaps there was more to the expression, but...no, it was a silly thought. No, he was just happy to see her. Shepard spoke up next, breaking up whatever argument might have been brewing between the two, "Tali, that's exactly why you're here. I need people I can trust. I've got Garrus, Joker and Doctor Chakwas so far, but Ashley wants nothing to do with me right now, and Liara and Wrex are too busy to help. I'm glad you're here, and I'm sure you'll love the chance to prove to Cerberus what aliens can do, yes?"_

 _She smiled, honored that he not only had that much confidence in her skills, but was willing to openly appreciate them when it mattered, "Thank you, Shepard. This might be a Cerberus ship, but its the Normandy, and I can't wait to serve aboard her again."_

 _"Good. Because I'm making you chief engineer."_

 _Jacob seemed surprised by that, "Commander, what about Donnelly and Daniels-"_

 _"Once they see Tali in action, they'll come to agree with the decision," Shepard declared, turning to Jacob, "Tell Miranda to put Tali on the roster, and to make sure she gets the appropriate rank and title that comes with that position."_

 _Noting his decision as final, Jacob snapped a salute and silently left without further argument. Well, at least they listened to him._

 _Shepard turned to her and squeezed her arm gently, an action that Tali appreciated more than he could ever know, as fleeting as it was, "I really am glad you're here, Tali. Ever since I've woken up, I've been surrounded by strangers, and I'll take whatever friends I can get. And I'll admit, I've missed having you around."_

 _And I've missed being around you, she thought. She didn't verbalize her thoughts however. Instead, she stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder gently, "I'm here. As is Garrus. Ashley may have abandoned you, and I'm not sure what Liara and Wrex are doing, but we will do what we can to support you. I won't let you down. But Shepard...surely I don't need to remind you that Cerberus can't be trusted. Even if I disagree with Ashley for spitting on you like that, she was right. Cerberus_ _ **will**_ _betray us."_

 _He nodded, "And that's why I need you here. For when that happens. This squad I'm building...they're a pack of unknowns. But you and Garrus...I know you both. I trust you with my life. Few people in my life can say they've known that level of trust. I count you and Garrus among them. When the Illusive Man does turn on us, I want you there by my side."_

 _"Always," she promised, "If your plan is to blow Cerberus up...I'll loan you a grenade."_

 _He smiled back at her, a genuine warmth eminating within those orbs, "We'll lob it together. That's a promise."_

 _"I'll hold you to that."_

She returned from the memory like one shifts focus from a book they're reading to the events playing out around them. She eyed Leng as he finished his argument with the Illusive Man, remembering what she said to Shepard. The promise she made.

 _"If your plan is to blow Cerberus up...I'll loan you a grenade."_

Cerberus had indeed betrayed them, but Shepard wasn't around to see it. They were supposed to do this together...but now here she was, with the Illusive Man nearby and his go-to assassin poised to take her life. It was almost eery how convenient this was. She could almost feel her focus zoning in on the single frag grenade that remained on her hip, left unused. It was almost as if the Ancestors were calling out to her. Had been guiding her to this one moment, making her suffer through her own personal purgatory so that she could have this one moment of catharsis. To finally fulfill a promise she had made only nine months ago to a man she loved, but had failed.

But she would not fail him here. This would be her defining moment.

"I...I promised..." she willed her lungs to grant her a respite, long enough to get out what she needed to say.

Leng looked down at her in disgust, unaware that her words were merely distraction as her right hand reached down to pluck the grenade from her waist, "What? Promised what? You've got something to say?"

"I prom...ised...to loan...a grenade," she muttered, "To blow...up...Cer...berus..." She coughed up more blood as she finished.

"Loan a grenade?" Leng repeated mockingly, shaking his head as he turned to the Illusive Man, "She's fucking lost it. Guess I might as well put her out of her misery."

"I'm...not...fin...ished..." she snarled, drawing both the Illusive Man and Leng's attention as she finished pulling out the grenade. She formed enough strength in her dying muscles to form one last smile, letting her glee radiate to the two bemused men as she sealed their fate, "I...will...loan... a gren...ade...to blo...up...Cerb...erus...here...you two...are..."

She primed the grenade, waiting two seconds before shoving it infront of them. Leng realized too late what she had meant, and the Illusive Man could only sit in abject horror as it dawned on him the mistake he had made, "Here...it...is... _bosh'tets_."

 _This one's for you, John._

The doors opened across the room. She turned to see Garrus rushing through the door, rifle raised, "Lower the weapo-" he trailed off as his eyes saw the grenade, and then locked with Tali's from behind the mask. He didn't have time to register the fact he was seeing her unmasked face for the first, and last time, because it had clicked much more quickly in his head what he planned to do. Eyes wide, he lunged forward, "Wait, Tali, NOOOOOO!"

 _Keelah se'lai._

The grenade detonated, and her world turned white.

And then the misery was no more.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_

 _ **...dark enough for you? XD**_

 _ **Next few prompts will be far more light hearted than this prompt, so don't worry on that account. As for you, St4nhop3, I hope you liked this prompt, because I'm personally very happy with how it turned out. I hope the feeling is mutual. :)**_

 _ **Well, EQC Chapter 12 is up next. I'm sorry I made you guys wait, but just hang in there. There are only eight Flashpoint prompts left (that's four lots of two), so we're not far from the end of Flashpoint, and then after a few one-shots, EQC will be all I write until its finished. So don't worry, your patience WILL be rewarded.**_

 _ **Until then,**_

 _ **Keelah Se'lai, troopers!**_


	20. Snapshot 19: Upon A Mighty Endeavour

_**This prompt was requested by the guest SarcasticDonkey. This prompt initially had me stumped, as I had no idea how I was going to approach it, but I think I've finally found a way that not only works, but allows me to nerd out and let me explore my interest with history. So here you have it, Mr. SarcasticDonkey. I hope you enjoy.**_

* * *

Ships. Seafaring and exoatmospheric. Civilian and military. Wood and steel. No matter what they were, what they did, and what they were composed of, ships are, arguably, the most important inventions that any galactic civilization ever created. For, without them, the seas would be left unexplored and the black void unoccupied, keeping worlds isolated and the uncharted shrouded in mystery. Ships charted destiny. They forged civilization. Without them, they would have nothing. _Become_ nothing.

Tali had heard Kaidan say this one day in a conversation with Ashley, Wrex, Garrus, Liara and herself. The quarian had found herself agreeing by default, as her own people's continued existence had relied as such on these very transports. Even warships aided with exploration, simply packing with it the necessary means in which to defend itself from whatever lurked in the foreboding, but curious, depths of the abyssal unknown. And if not for exploring, ships could become arks for salvation and preservation, as the Migrant Fleet had done with theirs. Ships could be homes for those who desired of such, and Commander Shepard, the man she had found herself signing up to help pursue and apprehend a rogue turian spectre, was one such person who had made a home on such vessels.

But the importance of such vehicles was obvious to Tali: she had lived her entire life being taught that particular fact, and experiencing it. As a quarian, she was the last person who needed to be informed of this. But she found it curious how other species viewed ships. The asari had used them to explore the deep reaches of space. The turians had built a massive, herculean armada from which to defend themselves with. The salarians had created their own to spy on others. Krogan ships were designed for the primary purpose of intimidating and strong-arming their neighbours. The geth built ships purely to escape the limitations of their own platforms. And the humans...built theirs to perform all of the above.

Humanity had fascinated Tali, and many other quarians of her youth, ever since she was born. Having only been born a few years after the end of the First Contact War, her generation were lucky to witness the rise and introduction of a new species onto the galactic stage. Some were scared of them, fearing a repeat of the krogan. Others thought humanity's militaristic behaviour was signs of a cold war between them and the turians. The Council races grew increasingly annoyed with humanity's political gains, and their persistence at trying to gain more and more power, resenting them as an entitled species that wanted too much, too fast. Her own people didn't view humans with much disdain or love, as quarians had long since been made pariahs of galactic society, and thus cared little for their politics or opinions.

But not all judgements of humanity were negative, for their species showed promise: potential that no other species before them had been able to exhibit so quickly. For example, their hatred, and to that extent complete opposition, to slavery had made them something of a champion for sentient rights across the Milky Way. The Alliance military often cracked down heavily on any and all slavery operations, and their brief war with the batarians from 2176-77 had shown the galaxy they would not bow down to slavers, and would respond aggressively. And while they were extremely territorial and heavily expansionist, they had a strong policy of 'we defend what we own', and the Alliance's record of defeating every invasion of their space had become something of a shock to the galaxy as a whole.

After all, how could this infant-power be able to stand on its own so well?

But what baffled people the most, especially quarians, was human individualism. Every species, in one way, shape or form, focused on collectivist and group-thinking based ideas of governance. The asari were seen as pillars of democracy, while the turians were heavily regimented, disciplined and of military-mind, where complete obedience was expected and honed in from a young age. The salarians believed in a 'united we stand' concept of defense, the krogan praised tribe-based nepotism, the Hegemony forced their people to obey their Regent, and Tali's own people were a socialist, extremely social and ultrademocratic society. Everything was done together, or not at all. Selfish thoughts were discarded, and members were expected to do everything for the greater whole. Humanity didn't share these ideas.

Humans valued individual thought, and this was both good and bad in some respects. While it made them more selfish as a species, it also allowed for a greater range of ideas to come forward. Their highly opinionated mindset meant more than opinion was considered, allowing for flexibility in thinking, but also making it more difficult to act efficiently. From the attack on Elyisum in 2176 to the declaration of war against the Hegemony, it took two weeks for their government to decide on a course of action. While quarians were highly sociable, they always stood united on significant topics, and discussions never lasted longer than a day.

Humans were an anomaly the galaxy just couldn't properly figure out, which vexxed some, and was adored by others. Most quarians were indifferent to humans, remaining either impartial or dismissing them as anything important. But Tali had always found them interesting, and their own focus on exploration and expansion seemed alien to her. Of course, by the time she was born, her people had long lost whatever worlds they held, so to have a planet of her own was something she couldn't conceive of, while humans were rapidly snatching up their own, one by one. Even in the Attican Traverse, a realm of space the Council had created to serve as a buffer zone between them and the Terminus, wasn't safe from the Alliance, with entire systems being claimed and colonized. Their resolve and tenacity was bewildering and elluring.

That probably also played into why Tali joined up with the _Normandy_ crew to begin with. The quarian had been on her pilgrimage, a rite of passage into adulthood, when she unwittingly became wrapped up in a conspiracy by a rogue turian spectre agent named Saren Arterius to bring back a hyper-advanced machine race known as the Reapers, who were responsible for wiping out the protheans fifty thousand years ago, and the many civilizations that preceded them. She had painted a target on her back, and Saren's agents had relentlessly pursued her across the Terminus, until she finally arrived on the Citadel to broker a deal with the Shadow Broker. But she was betrayed, and just before his men could kill her, Shepard and his team descended seemingly from nowhere, gunned them down, and asked her to help them. He said he didn't want to hurt her.

The look in his eyes had done more to convince her of his sincerity than words did. There was something about them that made her immediately trust him, like she had known him closely for years. Even now, that gaze inspired loyalty in her, and from what she had learnt of Shepard over the past few months of serving on his crew, she hadn't made a mistake. This was the Lion of Elysium, the very man who had held back a superior enemy force and come out still standing. But underneath that was a man who cared for those under his command, a man who had convictions and ethics, and one who wouldn't allow negotiations to devolve into violence if he could help it. But when he couldn't resolve situations with words, he didn't shy away from combat, and he was quite possibly the most skilled soldier she had ever seen, the way he danced around the battlefield, enemies dropping to his highly accurate fire, leaving her stunned almost every single time.

Suffice to say, there was no way she couldn't join his crew. Not the first human she had met of course, but he was definitely the first person in general who had spoken with her and not immediately looked at her like she was dirtying his presence. Like a piece of vermin sniffing around his boots. He didn't even hesitate for a moment when she asked to join his crew, having noted her skills already. And from there, the two had become close friends almost, Shepard coming down to check on her in engineering almost every day, which inevitably fell into deep discussions about her people and, in turn, his own.

Eventually, she started seeking him out for these talks, often catching him in the late hours of his shift, on break and enjoying (or at least trying to enjoy, as his facial expressions indicated displeasure with his meal) his dinner while reading reports on his datapad, at least she assumed they were. Whatever he was really reading, he happily put it aside to talk to her, more than happy to indulge her fascination with human history, their culture, politics and much more, while she returned the favor with him whenever he asked about hers.

In fact, she was engaged in one such conversation at this very moment. The _Normandy_ had just wrapped up its mission on Feros, the strange encounter with the Thorian creature still heavy on the crew's minds as they returned to the Citadel to refuel and restock. It troubled no one near as much as the team that had faced off with it in person however, with Shepard, Garrus, Ashley, Wrex and Tali having had the mispleasure of confronting and killing the ancient beast. Tali still recalled the horrid moans of the grotesque, deformed husk-like creatures the Thorian had spawned, their taloned-hands, eyeless sockets and dehydrated skin remaining firmly seated in her brain, long after her battle with them. She had spent the next day in the showers trying to scrub out all the green gore that had exploded from the creatures as she killed them, and while the stink and stains were gone, the stench was firmly archived in her olfactory senses.

But their conversation was not of Feros, the events that had occurred there, or their hunt for Saren. As per usual, they were learning about each other. Tali had eagerly delved into the origins and history of Reby'Zorah, the first Zorah and Pathfinder for the first great expedition across the _Jf'baba_ ocean to the Land of the Blind Pilgrims. She explained how Reby had nearly united the entirety of Rannoch, ended most of the Great Clan Wars by the time of her passing, and paved the way for the first quarian republic. Tali, as a Zorah, could trace her descent back to Reby the Pathfinder, a lineage which she was supremely proud of, and rightly so. Even Shepard admitted his own family history wasn't as exciting, although one of his great-great-grandfathers, Alan Bartlett Shepard, was one of the first humans who landed on Earth's moon in 1969.

Shepard came from a military family, emphasizing that essentially ninety percent of all Shepards had served in a military, or conflict, at one point or another. Both of his parents were in the service, he told her, with his mother in the navy serving as the captain of a dreadnought while his father had been a marine. William Shepard, however, didn't survive the First Contact War, and was killed when turian artillery pinned down his squad on Shanxi. Hannah was the only parent Shepard had left, and his only sibling, a sister, had died at age two when Shepard was six, taken by some disease that doctors had failed to account for. Shepard had hardly known her, but he mourned her loss every day anyway.

Tali's family was different. Clan Zorah had never been a 'military clan': not like the clans of Reegar and Gerrel, which were renowned for producing the best soldiers and commanders. In fact, the Reegars had been one of Reby's toughest conquests during her campaign to unite the clans, to the point where she even fell in love with their _Sheleen_ (clan leader), leading to a marriage pact that immediately resolved the conflict between Reby's clan alliance and the Reegars. And the Gerrels...well, one of their number invented the idea to use ships for war, and had built the first navy, so their renown was well known. But Zorahs were also known for their leadership and diplomatic qualities, and they had always been a powerhouse in quarian politics. Tali was unique as a Zorah in fact, as she had very poor leadership skills, but was considered a savant in the engineering field. Tali's own parents had been Zorahs through and through, with both of them being admirals in some point in their lives, and being known for their great leadership. So the disparity between Shepard and Tali's families was obvious from the get go.

Throughout this discussion however, one thought popped into Tali's head. When she had first beheld the _Normandy_ , in all its glory, she had found herself wondering what the name meant. Ship names, regardless of species, always had some significance to it. For quarians, they named their ships after clans of their history, with their three liveships named after the three extinct mother clans: Rayya, Shellen and Bakara. For turians, they named their ships after feats of honor, comraderie, piety, strength, inner discipline, their spirits, etc. The asari named their ships after cities, planets, religious figures and elements of their mythology. The salarians deliberately kept the names of their own ships 'vague and nonsensical' to keep their enemies off balance, with names such as 'Endeavour Dates' and 'Splendid Confusion' doting their vessels. The batarians liked to be pretentious with their ships, and krogan ship names, what few existed, boasted intimidating and proud names, ones that struck as much fear into their enemies as it did contempt.

Humans however were an anomaly. Their names seemed to come from varying sources, and they weren't ones she could understand. As such, her curiosity got the better of her, as it always did, and her brain decided to blurt out the information in the form of a quick question, "How do your people choose names for ships? What conventions are there?"

Struck by the randomness of the question, Shepard couldn't help but fall still as he considered it. Finally, he pushed away his plate of half-eaten food, having largely ignored it since their talk started, either out of lack of hunger or being too enraptured in their talk, and licked his lips, "Well...its somewhat of a mixture, really. On Earth, before the Alliance, each nation had their own rules for naming ships. For instance, in the country of the United States, each type of ship would have its own naming conventions. Submarines would be named after cities, while battleships would be named after states, and cruisers after famous battles. The British were largely the same, but then you get some ships being given intimidating names such as 'Revenge' and 'Ark Royal'. Russia and the US would name aircraft carriers after famous leaders, or after admirals and prestigous naval commanders. And then some countries would simply give them number designation, like 'Type-002'."

He thought about how to continue for a moment, all the while Tali never seemed to blink, she was so focused, "Nowadays, the Alliance adopts the same philosophy: each ship type gets their own naming conventions. For dreadnoughts, they're named after famous mountain peaks. My mother's ship, the _Orizaba_ , is named for the Pico de Orizaba volcano in Mexico. But then cruisers would be named after either important battles, or states and/or cities. It varies. Our carriers get named after famous people, mostly influential scientists, like the _Einstein_ , _Hawking_ and _Musk_."

"The _Normandy_ is a frigate," Tali pointed out, cocking her head at him, "What do you name your frigates for?"

He nodded, grinning at her. She blushed at how eager her tone had gotten, which was likely why Shepard was smiling. The commander just chuckled when she seemed to deflate, shaking his head, "We name them after _really_ famous battles. Not just famous, but pivotal. Ones that changed the course of our history. The _Kursk_ -class frigates are named for the Battle of Kursk, one of the biggest tank battles in human history, and the _Easting_ and _Golan_ are named for the same reasons."

 _Pivotal battles that changed their history? Is that what 'Normandy' means? A pivotal battle?_ "Tell me about the battle that the _Normandy_ is known for...why was it so important?"

He looked at her strangely then, and for a moment she thought she had gone too far and asked something too personal. She was about ready to take it back when Shepard spoke again, his tone solemn, but not offended, "One of my great-great-grandfathers fought at Normandy. His brothers were part of the Market Garden landings, but my direct descendant was on the beaches...he witnessed the slaughter. Almost joined the slaughtered too, but my dad said he was a tough son-of-a-bitch. He survived the war, all the way up until the Battle of the Bulge. Almost died there too, but luckily, all he lost was a leg. Back in those days, you were lucky if you survived that too. No such thing as flash cloning limbs back then."

She didn't understand anything of what he said, and all of the references passed over her head. But the way in which Shepard recounted his great-grandfather's legacy and his involvement in that important engagement that the _Normandy_ was known for. The look in his eye lacked any humor, and he seemed almost humbled by the tale as he remembered it.

But then, suddenly, he seemed to remember who had triggered the memory, and he looked back at her, his lost expression replaced with crystal focus, "The technology today allows us to witness history a lot more personally than we could of the classes back then. When I was in school, we didn't just learn about battles in history class...our teachers took us to experience them on the holodecks. I still remember asking my teacher for an OSD copy of the Battle of Normandy...he gave it to me when he learned my great grandfather served in it. In fact, I still have it."

He took a few seconds to compose himself, looking hesitantly at the table he sat at, but then turning back to Tali when he seemed ready, "Tali, I think it'd be better if I showed you why Normandy was important, rather than tell you. When we arrive at the Citadel, why don't you come with me to the HISSIM? If you're truly interested, I can show you what happened."

Really, there was only ever one answer Tali was going to give. She wanted to know, and the promise in Shepard's eyes of answers enticed her to follow his lead. Whatever importance the name of this ship she served on held...she wished to know of it.

She nodded, "I'll be there."

* * *

The _Normandy_ arrived at the Citadel a day and a half later, with the crew going through the motions of preparing the ship for a full restock. Those who didn't have immediate duties on and off the ship were enjoying the nightlife of the space station, and in the midst of that, Commander Shepard and Tali'Zorah departed the docked vessel, taking a skycab to the site of the Citadel's Historical Simulation Archive, otherwise known as the HISSIM. Almost every school's history class across the galaxy visited a HISSIM at one point, the opportunity to experience history firsthand simply too much to pass up, especially considering the immense amount of learning potential that would naturally arise from such a technological marvel.

Shepard and Tali were there today to experience that very thing, but for a whole different reason that didn't involve a basic history lesson. For Tali, this was a completely different experience. Unlike most humans, who had a peripheral understanding of their own history, Tali knew nothing about the battle she was going to virtually time travel into, and that knowledge excited her. She was a glutton for information, and more importantly for herself, she eagerly wanted to know what battle the eponymous ship had rooted its name from. It was the most pivotal battle in human history, to hear Shepard speak of it and his great-grandfather's involvement within it, so the mystery had her hooked.

Soon, the two stepped into an empty room, the non-descript grey walls lined with the holoprojectors that would bring the coming battle to life, and plant them feet first into it. Tali could only bounce on the tips of her toes as she waited, watching Shepard insert the OSD he had brought with him into the central terminal, booting up the program. Once completed, he walked over and joined her in the middle, looking over at her from where he stood, "You ready?"

"Yes!" she replied excitedly, perhaps a bit too raucously.

He shook his head, bringing up his omni-tool, "You'll wish to be."

Tali didn't get much time to decipher his cryptic statement before he activated the simulation and, like a dam bursting and water flooding across the room, holoprojectors hummed to life, and the battle rolled out before.

Within seconds, she was there...and her breath caught in her throat.

She was on a beach...a large one it seemed, as it appeared to stretch all the way to the horizon. The sea was choppy, a rolling grey of waves smashing up against the beach with a roar of water. The sky was partly sunny, just barely parting through the clouds that rolled above them. A harsh breeze sent her veil flapping, seeming to want to yank her back and forth, unable to decide which direction it preferred. Shepard seemed to stand tall and stoic, likely having gone through the simulation so many times that he didn't flinch at the unexpected. He didn't even seem to feel the cold, the chill that permeated the air almost felt through her own suit, if it weren't for the suit's built-in temperature regulators.

As she looked down, she found the sound to be course and rough, but also wet and malleable. It clung to the bottom of Tali's boots, making it nearly impossible to shake off. Tali tried doing exactly that, turning over her boot to swipe some of the sand off her boot, only to find some of it stained red.

As she looked up, she found that more of the sand was tainted red as well, and it wasn't long before bodies started to accompany the red sand as well. She gasped as she found corpses of human soldiers, clad in gear that seemed too primitive for the modern age, littered about the beach, in various positions, all of them dead. Clumps of them surrounded her, parts of their bodies missing or lying next to them in bloody heaps. Weapons she could only recognize as submachine guns and rifles lay with them, spent bullets resting in the sand beside them, those closest to the water being soaked or carried off into the ocean, almost as if it was claiming their corpses as food.

Along the beach itself, large metal containers rested along the water, landing ramps deployed from their bowels to reveal their contents. Some were empty, with the odd body inside them...others seemed like transport trucks, as they were stacked so high with the dead and dying. Others were in flames, destroyed or heavily damaged. It was only upon further inspection that Tali could see they were troopships.

All around her, the battle seemed to unravel. Shouting could be heard as lieutenants and sergeants barked orders at their men to advance up the beach, while a veritable hailstorm of machine gun fire tore up the beach. Tracer rounds sung through the air, impacting upon flesh, sand or the troop transports. The fire emerged from a wall of bunkers up on the far side of the beach, where multiple machine gun nests rained fire down on their attackers. Meanwhile, said attackers remained persistent, dodging enemy fire, while also ducking and weaving between the weird, cross-like obstacles that were dotted across the area. All the while, explosive shells erupted from behind the defender's lines, kicking up plumes of sand, and sometimes people with it, as they impacted. Limbs flew up high, screams of agony could be heard. Tali watched as one soldier who had lost his arm was relieved of his weapon, only for the soldier who took it to continue forward, ignoring his comrade's suffering, the dying soldier crying out for his mother.

Turning hurriedly, she watched as a squad of seven more soldiers were torn to shreds by a single machine gun spread, all of them killed within seconds. Another soldier, carrying an odd looking tank on his back that she could only assume was part of an early form of human flamethrower, especially given the fire that licked hungrily from the barrel of the weapon connected to it, exploded in a blazing conflagration as his tank was detonated, screeching hauntingly as the fire of his own weapon consumed him, burning him alive. More soldiers still emerged from a destroyed troopship, at least four of them running up the beach, looking like walking torches as they rushed up onto the sand, roaring like banshees, before collapsing to the ground shortly after, convulsing for a short while before falling still, completely dead.

She tried to fathom the extent of it, but couldn't. Up in the distance, along the entire stretch of beach, she could see the exact same situation being played out for what seemed like miles upon miles, what must have tens of thousands of troops charging the beach, met with slaughter all the way.

All the wonder she felt was gone. What she saw before her was not exciting or wonderous. It was horrible. Horrifying. A massacre.

As if to grant her respite, the simulation paused, and the battle along with it. The barking of soldiers paused with their mouths wide open, angry looking expressions taunting her. A bullet flew by her head, stopping right infront of her mask. Blood sprayed through the air, carrying with it the brine of the ocean. An explosion nearby sent limbs flying into the sky, only for them to freeze up there, looking like exploded human confetti.

"June 6th, 1944," Shepard spoke, startling her. Being so taken by the battle, she had almost completely forgotten he was there, and his sudden appearance shattered her zoned out demeanour, "The Battle of Normandy, otherwise known as D-Day."

"Why would anyone name a ship after this?" Tali asked, still bothered by the sights she had seen, "This is a...a massacre! What are they trying to achieve? All I see are thousands of soldiers dying pointlessly trying to claim a beach! What was the aim? How was this pivotal?"

Shepard wasn't bothered by her bombardment of questions...instead, he was emboldened by them, "You lack context here, Tali. This is the Second World War in its second last year. Before now, the war has been going on since September 1939...that's almost five years. I won't hamper you with excessive details, but the war started because of the insanity and contemptible ideology and will of one man and the army at his command. He believed those who weren't of his 'master race' were racially inferior, and that the world needed to be saved from them, and that his country, Germany, would be the one to save the world. At first, it seemed like Germany's war machine was unstoppable...France was conquered, Britain stood alone, with only their Canadian dominion to call upon, the Americans refused to get involved, and in 1941, the Russians were being invaded as well. Short story made short...the tide turned. Germany overextended themselves, and thanks to the US joining the war in 1941, Britain finally had a means to liberate Europe. And finally, on June 6, 1944...they began that liberation."

"This...is that liberation?" Tali asked hesitantly.

He nodded confirmingly, "Yes. On this day, over one million allied troops landed across the five beaches of Sword, Juno, Gold, Omaha and Utah, as designated by the military brass. They caught the Germans with their pants down, who had only four hundred thousand troops manning their fortifications along the beaches due to the weather. They didn't think the Allies could make the landing. And thanks to exceptional planning on their part, the Allies were able to capture the beaches and liberate Normandy, and eventually pave the way for the liberation of France. They lost thousands of troops...but far less than they initially feared, believe me. But regardless of the projections...one hundred and twenty thousand men died on these beaches. Americans, Australians, Canadians, Poles, Belgians, New Zealanders, the Dutch, and many others who contributed to the effort to liberate Europe from tyranny."

Her view of the battle had been pessimistic...after what she saw, why wouldn't it be? But hearing Shepard describe it, why it was pivotal...it changed her view completely. But what she found even more staggering was just how many nations had taken part in this invasion, "How many of Earth's countries participated in this battle?"

He scoffed, hands clasped behind his back, "Thirteen Allied countries took part in the invasion, but the British, Americans and Canadians dedicated the most troops, and the first two did most, if not all, the planning. It was the largest amphibious assault in military history up until that point, and I still don't think we've seen anything like it since."

"Keelah," she muttered, taking in her surroundings now that she could view them in a different light. It had seemed so easy to judge the battle on its own merits, without the context, and believe it to be a useless slaughter that gained nothing and attributed just as much. After all, what she saw was a beach full of thousands of bodies, all of which had died just trying to gain a few inches of sand. To know this was how humans waged warfare on their world only two hundred years ago was remarkable, especially given how much it had changed since then...and the parts that didn't change at all. But now she had the full context of it, and to know that this battle, this slaughter, helped to end a massive war, if not directly imposed such a victory, was breathtaking. She turned to Shepard after a moment of thought, understanding dawning on her, "Is this why the _Normandy_ is named after this?"

"Yes," he declared, motioning towards the frozen battle, "While the European theater of the war wouldn't end until May of 1945, the Battle of Normandy was a massive step towards that victory. It officially opened up a new front in Europe, which divided Germany's attention onto a second front. It allowed the Allies to liberate their French allies, and eventually invade Germany and force their capitulation. There is no denying the importance of this battle, which is why the _Normandy_ , and its class namesake, are identified after it. Heh..." he chuckled to himself for a moment, which gained Tali's attention, as she didn't think the topic was a laughing matter. Seeing he would need to clarify his mirth, he looked at her specifically, "In a way, one day, your own people could have their own Normandy."

"What do you mean?" Tali returned, cocking her head. His statement seemed odd to her, and she was interested to see what his thought process was behind it.

He shrugged, "Well, your people were kicked off your homeworld by the geth. Now, whatever my opinions on that, its clear you and your people view the geth as your enemy, and your homeworld as a land you'd like to one day return to...I guess what I mean is that one day your people will launch their own invasion of Normandy, to liberate your homeworld from the geth."

The quarian wanted to smile at that, especially after discovering what he meant, and while she appreciated the sentiment, she knew it was but a pipe dream. Her people had long lost whatever military might they had before the war, and the few resources they had were being used to defend themselves from pirates, and weren't enough to plan offensives of the scale necessary to liberate Rannoch. The geth, on the other hand, had far more resources, state-of-the-art warships and enormous armies from which to rely on, and were likely well entrenched after three centuries of occupying former quarian territories. And unlike the battle of this simulation, there would be no united front to stand against the geth...even now, as the geth posed a direct threat to their own territories, the Council still didn't want to ally itself with the Migrant Fleet, and never would.

"I appreciate that you think that's possible, Shepard," Tali said sincerely, but wistfully, "But it will never happen. My people lack the resources, and we're but one people against the full strength of the geth's armies and fleets. We wouldn't stand a chance. We don't even have enough resources to mount an offensive."

Shepard just shook his head, smiling as he reached out and grasped her shoulder reassuringly, "Tali, the British said the same thing in 1940, after the evacuations at Dunkirk. They believed all hope was lost...their only major ally was overwhelmed, and the US didn't want to get involved, while the Russians had agreed to not attack Germany. They stood alone. The Germans were hitting their supply convoys, meaning they hardly had any supplies. They even considered capitulation...but you know what kept them going? Faith. Faith, and patriotism, and defiance. No matter how enticing the terms of surrender were, the people would not give up. No matter how many times their homes were blown apart and their cities burned, they refused to surrender. And you know what? Germany's invasion failed, the war continued, and Britain eventually got the allies, resources and material it needed to win the war. You know what that tells me? That no matter how little, how insignificant and how close to defeat you may think you are...victory is possible. Your people will one day have Rannoch back...I'm confident of that. It might not happen soon, but it will. Be your own Britain. Defy the geth, and the Council, and you'll find triumph gets easier with each time the enemy fails to destroy your resolve."

Tali couldn't help the conviction that flooded her body from hearing his words. Shepard was like that: he was already known for inspiring loyalty in those under his command, and he had just proven how he does that. And he was right, she realized: the Council had been ridiculously outnumbered and outgunned during the Krogan Rebellions, but they had won. The Terminus rebels were vastly outnumbered and outgunned by the Council during the Terminus Revolutions, but they were still victorious. Despite the firepower and superiority of their military, the batarians were still defeated at every turn by her people during the Quarian-Batarian War, or the Pragia War as it was sometimes called. History's evidence to prove Shepard's point was all there, she just needed to see it. And now she had.

She held no illusions that she would stand on Rannoch within her lifetime, but at least she could help pave the way for a future generation to carry that torch, or to help them help the next. Whatever the case may be, she had learned more than she had intended today, despite only having intended to learn about the name of the ship she served on.

"Thank you, Shepard," she stated, straightening up and looking at him decisively, head held high, "I think you're right."

Her commander could only smile as he tapped at his omni-tool, switching off the simulation with a single swipe. The monochrome walls returned as the beaches of Normandy dissolved, Shepard motioning towards the door, "Now that you know what the _Normandy_ is all about...want to get a drink at Flux? I think I've earned a few more questions about your history now."

She laughed, nodding enthusiastically as she grabbed at his arm, totally unaware of how it may have looked to others and the fact that Shepard wasn't at all bothered by it, walking towards the exit with a warm smile on his face, "Well, how about I tell you about the Zorah-Reegar War? It all came to a head when Reby the Pathfinder confronted Zura the Vigilant at the Battle of Omar'xet'netar. Reby was ready for a fight, and outnumbered the Reegars ten to one, but she-"

And so the conversation of great battles continued, and the great exchange of historical and cultural information between human and quarian intensified with each talk.

Little did they know, that three years later, their own Battle of Normandy would arrive sooner than they believed, awaiting them not only on Rannoch, but in the city of London, on Earth, in the year 2186.

And just like the battle before it...victory would be theirs.

For the defiant always stand the best chance of winning, even against gods.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_

 _ **What's this, another upload so soon? Yeah, I'm just as surprised as you are, but hey, when the inspiration hits me...who am I to disregard it?**_

 _ **Will be taking another two day break then I'll (hopefully) dive into Snapshot 20, and after that, Chapter 13 of EQC. As for you, SarcasticDonkey, if you're still reading this, I hope you enjoyed this prompt, and I do hope even more that its what you were looking for. The fact I finished this prompt so quickly speaks for just how entertaining this prompt was!**_

 _ **Until next time,**_

 _ **Keelah se'lai, troopers!**_


	21. Snapshot 20: Once More, With Feeling

_**This prompt was requested by EPiCJB19. This prompt initially seemed like it would be a repeat of the "He's Mine" snapshot, due to the nature of it, but I found a humurous way to twist it and make it unique at the same time. So, here you go, EPiCJB19...enjoy! I hope its somewhat what you're after!**_

* * *

"Shit, she's broken free! Viking-2, Chariot-7...fall back and regroup! Target Gamma is loose! I repeat, Target Gamma is lo-"

The soldier never got to finish relaying his order as Shepard raised his rifle, took aim and pressed the trigger, watching the high velocity bullets evicted from his barrel punch through the side of his head, his helmet and already downed shields doing little to protect him from the deadly geth projectiles. A geyser of blood spewed into the air, a misty cloud that drenched the two men under his command, just behind him. The centurion collapsed, the crack of his rifle giving away his position. By the time the two troopers turned to face him however, Shepard had already ducked back into cover.

They didn't get much time to suppress the N7 before another, far more deadly foe descended upon them.

There was a shout, followed by screaming...then all other sounds from the Cerberus squad were drowned out by a cacophonous war cry. Shepard didn't need to peek out from his cover to know exactly what that meant. His primary objective complete, he turned to Tali and Garrus, who stood beside him, shotgun and rifle clutched between them respectively, covering his flank.

"Well, Aria's loose now and all the adjutants are dealt with," he confirmed to his squad, gaining their attention, "Rally on me and keep suppressing the left. Aria will deal with the rest, we can be sure of that much."

And the self-titled 'Queen of Omega' didn't disappoint. The corpses of an entire squad's worth of Cerberus troops lay strewn about the room, each looking more brutalized than the last. Aria had shown these soldiers no mercy, and this lack of leniency was left marked on the bodies of the fallen, each either missing most of their limbs, or their torsos and heads so badly sundered that even the armor was torn to ribbons. One soldier pitifully crawled across the ground, his legs reduced to nothing but bloody sinew being dragged across the ground, and Shepard quickly put him out of his misery via tap to the head with his rifle.

Turns out there were few surviving troops for Shepard and his team to kill. Aria, in seconds, had decimated the remaining forces there, her path of destruction a bread crumb trail of its own. Despite this however, the surviving Cerberus forces continued to fight on until Petrovsky finally ordered them to surrender over the PA system, which extended to the entirety of his army across Omega. Cerberus had capitulated.

A surviving unit of Cerberus soldiers, no more than seven or eight of them, emerged from cover, dropping their weapons onto the ground and holding their hands behind their heads to indicate they had surrendered. Shepard and his team lowered their weapons in kind, the spectre motioning for Tali and Garrus to begin collecting their weapons. Meanwhile, the surrendering combatants got on their knees, eyes looking mindlessly at the ground as they seemed to remain motionless. If they had stopped breathing, he probably wouldn't have noticed, they were that still. He shook his head.

 _The abominations the Illusive Man has created...these aren't soldiers, anymore than the Reapers' legions are. What little humanity they had left in them is gone._

He placed his rifle on his back, waiting for the magnetic lock to engage before he let go of it, feeling it cling to his back. He allowed himself a brief respite, removing his helmet and wiping the film of sweat clinging to his face away with one swipe. It had been a long day of fighting, but the Battle of the Apex was finally simmering down. Through some clever tactics of their own, their smaller forces had rapidly outmanoeuvred Cerberus' Hades Line defenses, sweeping around to crush their numerically superior army in a 'hammer and anvil' envelopment that make Alexander the Great proud if he were still alive. Petrovsky was a brilliant general, but even he was powerless to stop what the UGC had put in motion. With the majority of his army pinned, Afterlife was as vulnerable as it was going to get...and Aria, Shepard and his squad took full advantage of that.

It had cost them. Nyreen Kandros, the leader of the Talons and Omega's rebel forces resisting the Cerberus occupation, had given her life to stop surviving adjutants from escaping and slaughtering the station's populace. Aria, in a fit of rage, stormed Afterlife and slaughtered everything in sight, only to fall into a trap Petrovsky had set up and was imprisoned in a biotic stasis machine. However, Shepard and his squad were, after an intense skirmish, able to destroy the machine and free Aria...and moments later, Petrovsky had his army capitulate.

Five days...five whole days of intense fighting. Adjutants, Cerberus soldiers...whatever it was, they had fought them, and barely come out of it alive. The only reason they survived at all was because of the forces at their back, and the conviction of the rebels to see Cerberus kicked off their station. And now it was finally over, and they could rest...until the next battle, of course.

 _One campaign after another. The war for Omega may be over, but the Reapers and the Illusive Man have plenty more surprises waiting for us. No idea where this war will take us next. For now though...we can enjoy this victory at the very least._

Even as he took the time to catch his breath, his squadmates were cleaning the shop. The Cerberus soldiers remained on their knees, eerily silent, as they were disarmed. They put up no further resistance, which Shepard was glad for, as he didn't want to have to put down an unarmed combatants.

After a few moments of silence, Shepard taking a moment to wipe some excess blood dripping down the front of his armor, he felt a presence at his side and turned to see Tali walking up to him. He was barely a head taller than her, and yet he still felt like a giant when he had to look down at her to talk, "You've rounded up all the weapons?"

"We have," she confirmed, crossing her arms, her shotgun now holstered on her back safely, "General Golo just contacted us to inform you that the Hades Line has surrendered. A few continued to resist, but were swiftly put down by their own men. He's sent a battalion ahead to secure the rest of the Apex. They should meet up with us soon."

With his helmet off, he likely hadn't heard the communique, and nodded his thanks for being informed, "Good...that's good to hear. Hopefully we'll know soon whether or not all of Petrovsky's troops heeded his orders to surrender."

Silence prevailed for moments afterwards, neither of them having much to say about the events that had preceded their arrival here. The past week and a half hadn't granted them much time to talk outside of shouting and acknowledging orders, and their time had been made up of moving from one battlefield to the next, dismantling the Cerberus occupation across the station. Now they finally had a chance to speak freely, and there were few words to be exchanged. Exhaustion gripped them, and all Shepard really wanted to do right now was sleep. He had little of it since arriving on Omega, and right now a long rest was sounding quite enticing...not to mention shedding the heavy armor that now felt like he was carrying an anvil on his back. No doubt Tali and Garrus felt the same.

Tali, for the most part, was content not saying a word, simply staying silently by his side, the only sound accompanying her presence being the sound of heavy breathing through her vocalizer, which lit up with every intake of breath. Her posture screamed fatigue, her shoulders slumped and head subtly cocked to one side. Garrus' own battle weariness was less noticeable, although the lethargy that carried with each of his steps was a good indicator all the same.

Finally, following a moment of ameliorating his physical condition, he turned around to see if he could spot Aria, since the pirate queen of the Terminus' omitted presence hadn't gone entirely unnoticed. He frowned as he failed to find her in his view, and was about ready to call out to her when he saw the asari storming up the stairway, towards Petrovsky's previously shielded command position. With the shield now gone, Aria looked to be snatching her chance to get revenge for her loss of Omega, and for Nyreen's death. He couldn't let that happen.

 _Not only is Petrovsky an honorable man, but the SIA could interrogate him to get vital and damaging intelligence on Cerberus operations. His capture could turn the tide of the war in our favor completely. We need him alive._

He turned back to Tali, also motioning to Garrus as he approached, "I'm going to check on Aria, make sure she doesn't lynch Petrovsky. You two stay here and watch over the prisoners."

"You sure its a good idea going alone?" Garrus interrogatively asked him, the turian's tone skeptical and doing a poor job of disguising his mistrust of the asari, "Aria's a willful woman. If he wants to kill Petrovsky, she won't let anything stop her. She could lash out. Become a threat, even."

Tali was in accord with the turian, stepping forward to place a hand lightly on his shoulder, an action she had become more and more confident in doing over the time they had spent as a couple, "I don't trust Aria either, John. One of us should go with you."

He shook his head, "I can handle Aria. I've got my pistol...if need be, I'll put her down. I need you two here, making sure those prisoners don't escape or that any stragglers don't arrive to try and save their general."

Neither of them seemed satisfied with that answer, Tali least of all, "She's unpredictable, John. You might not see her coming."

Shepard just sighed. He was appreciative of her concern, but he had spent enough time with Aria, during this campaign and before it, to know that Aria was as predictable as they came. The days of her war with the Patriarch were clearly long behind her, and with them was her flexibility as a commander. While she was by no means a military genius, her dirty form of warfare had allowed her to turn Patriarch's forces against him by the droves, until there was nothing left but his hardcore loyalist elite. And then she took the fight to him personally, and by humiliating their leader before them, established herself as Omega's dominant ruler. The strategy had been callous, crude and cunning, and Aria had made wielded her people's reputation as seductresses to full effect. The result had been a war that ended in less than a few days, and with Aria as the undisputed ruler of the station for hundreds of years afterwards. He knew this because Aria had told him...he was one of the few who knew the story in detail.

But those days were long gone. The lack of would-be usurpers disputing her claim had allowed centuries of complacency to fester and grow, arriving to the point where Aria literally didn't know how to defend her claim against stronger foes anymore, just as had happened to the ruler before her. So when Cerberus arrived with a strong army, Aria was evicted within a month. And with Petrovsky in command, and the station protected by a heavily militarized corps of Cerberus assault troops, she couldn't pull the same tactics she had used on Khurdok. Aria's inadequacy as a commander was laid bare, which was why she came to Shepard in the first place.

That's how he knew she was predictable. Her tactics were crude and lacked flexibility. Brute force was the tool she wielded to wage war, but when your enemy has more sophisticated technology, a better equipped army and a far smarter commander, brute force means nothing. Even worse was that when Aria was provoked to anger, her actions became even easier to counter and predict. If it hadn't been for Shepard, or the many UGC sub-commanders that led the invasion, the entire campaign may have ended in yet another victory for Cerberus.

"Believe me...I _will_ see her coming," Shepard assured them, "You two have your orders. I'll be up in the command post. Let me know when Golo's advance force arrives."

Tali and Garrus simply nodded their acknowledgement, the turian motioning for Tali to follow. While they may have held further objections to his current course of action, they knew better than to continue arguing with him, especially once he had made his mind up. Even Tali knew better than to take advantage of her position as his girlfriend and to push the issue, and was quick to snap to the completion of her task...no matter how much she may have objected to it.

During a mission, his word was law. Anywhere else, he would tolerate being questioned, but not here, and certainly not now.

 _They're right, though. Aria's dangerous. It'd be easier to give her what she wants, but that's not how this relationship works. I need Petrovsky alive. Nobody except Aria stands to gain anything from his death, and with Cerberus hampering our efforts to defeat the Reapers at almost every turn, capturing the supreme commander of their military will give us an edge we sorely need. I can't let her take that away from us just to satisfy her petty revenge._

Shepard wasn't far behind her. His gait was deliberately swift and urgent, anxious to get to Petrovsky before Aria tore him to shreds. He thought of all the things he could potentially say to get her to back down, but his mind mostly came up blank. Aria was a force of nature...a woman who refused to do anything anybody else's way, and when she finally did, it was through reluctance. Shepard could count himself among one of the few people who could successfully persuade her against her more vicious tendencies, but right now she was a war horse with a singular goal in mind. And Shepard didn't know if any argument he conjured up would be good enough to stop her.

So when he finally reached the command post, turning to the left to address his quandary, he nearly froze. There Aria was, body glowing an angry cobalt blue, two balls of dark energy gathering brightly around her fists, standing just infront of a wounded Petrovsky, who was already nursing what Shepard assumed to be a broken rib, the man impressively able to keep standing despite the blow. The general looked to be trying to dissuade Aria from what she was about to do, but the pirate queen showed no signs of backing down. When this became increasingly apparent, Shepard accepted that words wouldn't be enough.

"Aria," he hissed, surprising the asari enough to cause her to stop moving towards the Cerberus general, both of them turning to face the commander with entirely differing looks: the former with hatred in her eyes, and the latter with a plea for help. Shepard only looked at Aria however, levelling his own, severe look back at her, unwilling to allow Aria to murder his soon-to-be prisoner-of-war, "Stand down. You're _not_ killing him."

"He's mine," Aria shot back, her tone not loud, but harsh and bitter, a tinge of hot poison lacing her words that was so viscous that he could feel the full force feel of its proverbial bite, "This piece of shit nearly cost me everything. He took my station. He took my people. And now...he took..."

There was a moment of hesitation there, the name Aria wanted to mutter just falling shy of being spoken. The pirate queen was a woman of well-guarded secrets, and among those secrets was emotional weakness. While she may have seemed largely uncaring and callous, and she definitely was, make no mistake of that, she still had things she cared about. Her indifference to Nyreen's return had clearly been a facade. By the end of the Omega campaign, her past relationship with Nyreen, and the daughter it produced, had been revealed to him by the late rebel leader, painting a very different picture of the fearsome ruler of Omega. Aria pretended she didn't care about Nyreen, but her reaction to the turian's death had been most telling. The same kind of reaction Shepard would have had if Tali had been killed.

But even still, in this moment, Aria was unable to let the name slip past her lips. It would be a sign of weakness...proof she was more than her reputation defined. She couldn't allow that, and that, more than anything, prohibited her from showing any outward signs of grief for her deceased flame. Instead, she snapped back towards Petrovsky, reaching out to grab him by the neck and slam him against his command console. Having taken his eyes off Aria, the defeated general grunted in surprise as he was pinned against the terminal, vision consumed by what seemed like a living, breathing lightning bolt of rampaging energy.

"Aria!" he snapped again, stepping closer, hand gliding to the pistol at his hip, "You've won. Cerberus has surrendered. The station is yours again. By the laws of the Citadel Conventions, specifically in regards to prisoners-of-war, Petrovsky has yielded, and he is _my_ prisoner. I won't allow you to hurt him, not while he's under _my_ care."

"We're not in Citadel space, Shepard," Aria snarled, Petrovsky's grunts of pain turning into gurgling as she began to choke him. Shepard knew biotics could enhance a user's strength, and that the general wouldn't last long if Aria kept that up, "Your laws aren't the laws of the Terminus Systems. And he's no prisoner...he'll be nothing but a corpse once I'm done with him, and then I'll have his body dumped into a waste dispos-"

He was out of options. Petrovsky's choking was becoming more desperate, oxygen deprivation taking its toll on him. If he didn't hurry, the general would soon be dead. Knowing he needed to act quickly, he knew there was only one action that would ultimately sway someone like Aria. People of her breed only understood violence...it was the bread and butter of their criminal empires, and what they used to keep their lackeys loyal. Fear and violence was the only law Omega understood, and it was that exact tactic Shepard was now going to be forced to use.

He didn't hesitate. His paladin heavy pistol left its holster faster than one could blink, the N7 closing the gap in those precious few seconds and bringing the weapon to bare against the back of her head, barrel pressed firmly against purple skin just tightly enough to grab her attention. The asari froze, stunned by Shepard's actions, having not expected him to actually put a gun to her head. A decision many who had dared to face her in the past had been killed for.

"Shepard..." she asked hesitantly, unsure of what was happening. He knew he had her in that moment, "...what are you doing?"

"I'm going to give you exactly fifteen seconds," he hissed, "I don't care what reasons you have for killing Petrovsky. I need him alive. He's my prisoner...consider it a _quid pro quo_. I got you Omega...you give me Petrovsky."

"I can't let him live, you kn-"

"Talking time is over," he interrupted, ice filling his tone as he steeled himself to do what was necessary, "You've got ten seconds left."

"You're bluffing. You won't kill me. You need me to rule Omega."

"I'll find someone else. Someone less temperamental, in fact," he returned, "And people like us don't bluff. You should know that. Six seconds."

"You're soft, Shepard. You're nothing like me. You're bluffing, I know it."

"Three seconds left. Better hope you're right."

Aria, thankfully, knew when she was beaten. Not willing to risk her life on the chance that the human pointing a gun at her might be lying, she released her grip on Petrovsky's throat, the sound following it that of a general pathetically wheezing and coughing as his body drew in as much oxygen as possible to refill its depleted storage. While he inhaled vast amounts of air, the biotic glow around Aria dimmed, her eyes returning to their usual color, fists clenching and unclenching.

He lowered his pistol, holstering it as the asari came to fully face him. To his surprise, he was met with a wicked smile, "I must admit, Shepard. For a second...I thought you would actually pull that trigger."

"You weren't wrong," he returned vaguely. If Aria had continued to choke Petrovsky out...he wasn't lying when he said he would kill her. He needed the Cerberus general more than he needed a rogue element like T'Loak. If push came to shove, he knew he would choose Oleg each and every single time, and that was just a fact.

Aria eyed him for a second, trying to find evidence that he was, again, lying in that regard: whatever she found in his eyes, it was enough to get her to abandon the topic altogether, turning back to the form of Petrovsky, on all fours, coughing up a lung onto the floor, "Just...get this filth off my station. I don't care what you do with him after this. I'm sure one of your interrogators will inflict more pain on him than I ever could. I'll take joy in that thought, since you've stolen my revenge from me."

He didn't bother entertaining her with an answer to that.

Minutes passed as the UGC advance force arrived, and Petrovsky was cuffed and taken to the _Normandy_ 's brig for transport to the Citadel later on. The rest of the place was cleared out on Shepard's orders, not wanting any conflict between Aria's men and the UGC/Talon soldiers to take place. Their alliance had been a tenuous one, and keeping the two parties apart was best for everybody involved. They had just won one war...they didn't want to immediately start another over a disdainful look or misinterpreted word.

Aria's speech to Omega had been short and brief, but was also a rallying cry to the people of the station. She emphasized that the greater war beyond was not yet over, and called upon every last capable man and woman to join the Talons and help fight the Reapers. Shepard knew that Aria was a woman of her word, and whether it be a threat or a promise, she kept it. She promised an army, a fleet and a mountain of eezo...and she provided that in abundance. He didn't know how things would run on Omega now with Aria back in charge and the station taking an active role in galactic affairs, but he knew, at the very least, that Aria would give the UGC what she promised.

Shepard had been ready to go down and return to the _Normandy_ when Aria confronted him one last time, oddly sporting the same smile she had before when he had nearly put a bullet in her head, "You know Shepard, I've been thinking of what you nearly did to me. Nobody's threatened me and gotten away with it. Normally I wouldn't have time to be impressed, but ever since I've met you...I can't pretend you're not at least intriguing. You may not like it, but we share a lot of things in common...and I like to think one of them is having the balls to do what needs to be done. You took charge of the situation...you decided you wanted Petrovsky alive, and you were willing to fight me over it. Its the same fire Nyreen had...and I find it _very_ attractive."

Whatever he had to say in regards to that comment didn't get to see the light of day as the asari's hands reached out and found purchase on his armor, pulling him forward and mashing her lips against his.

Like an idiot, his eyes comically widened as Aria kissed him, taken completely surprised by the sudden change of persona. And while it only lasted over a second, the urge to pull away had been strong from the get go. So when Aria parted from him, nodding at him out of some form of need to acknowledge that what had just transpired had _indeed_ transpired, all he could do was stare at her emotionlessly as he tried to fathom everything that occurred in that second. Her taste lingered on his lips, unwelcome and uninvited, and his daze only lifted long enough for him to shake his head.

 _Ummmm...what just happened?_

"Don't look so shocked, Shepard," Aria waved him off, turning back around to face the people gathered around in Afterlife, "It was a spur of the moment thing. Don't think this means anything."

"I don't," he gulped, finally able to produce a response beyond the dumbfounded and goofy look he no doubt had plastered all over his face, "I'm just baffled by why you-"

Before he could finish, he noticed a blur of movement just above Aria and behind her. Aria didn't seem to notice it, her back turned to the apparition, as she crossed her arms and continued to look smugly at him. Shepard, however, had ceased saying whatever he had planned to say, and looked up to see that same blur heading straight for Aria.

Then he saw the color of the blur as it emerged from the shadows. It was...purple?

It clicked a moment too late. _What? Tal-?_

Descending from the sky like a falcon on its prey, Tali fell upon Aria without the asari ever noticing. Shepard could only watch in absolute horror as the knife she had been apparently wielding slammed into the back of the asari's neck as she fell upon her. Aria cried out in pain, the full force of the quarian's momentum slamming into her back causing the pirate queen to fall face first into the ground. She landed with a thump, and Shepard just continued watching in total shock as Tali tore the knife from Aria's neck.

"Tali...what the fuck are you doing!?" he demanded, his voice a snarl.

 _More to the point...where the hell did she come from? She fell from the sky like she was using a jetpack...but she doesn't have one! And why would she climb all the way up there just to kill Aria? What the shit!?_

"I saw this _bosh'tet_ kiss you," she snapped back, straddling the pirate queen's back as she then proceeded to take her repeatedly through the back of the head, jackhammering the blade into her skull _ad nauseum_. Eventually Aria's body stopped moving altogether, but that didn't satisfy Tali apparently. The quarian he had served with all these years seemed like an entirely different person, the demonic presence laying waste to the late Aria T'Loak's head with enough contempt to purchase the Citadel itself. Purple blood flew in every direction with each consecutive slash, and the N7 found he could only stand there and watch as the steel blade plunged into the mangled skull with no end in sight.

"Tali..." he muttered, watching as, minutes later, she finally sheathed her knife, casually standing up and beholding her work proudly, the unrecognizable purple pile of stinking flesh littered with bone fragments seeming like a victory to her. Whoever this was, it wasn't Tali. Not the Tali he knew: she would never find glee in murder, "...what has gotten into you?"

"She kissed my _neh'sah_ ," Tali shrugged, grinning beneath her mask, "So I kissed her back...with my knife."

"You...you murdered her," he pointed out. Just moments ago, he had been talking to Aria casually, and now there she was on the ground, a soon-to-be cold cadaver, "That's...fucked up. Why did you do that? That's...seriously, what the hell is the matter with you?"

Before Tali could give him an answer however, there was a flash of white that blinded him.

He cried out from the sudden intrusion of light.

* * *

As quick as it came, the light was gone.

He blinked, quickly trying to ascertain what had happened, only to find that...

...Aria was stepping back from him.

 _What in the absolute shit?_

A quick look around proved that Tali was nowhere to be seen, Aria was very much alive and stepping back from him, and everything was fine. In fact, the most out-of-place thing he felt was a strange sense of deja-vu. It didn't take long for him to figure out why.

He remembered this because it had happened but moments before. Aria had kissed him, and was backing away. Her taste lingered on his lips. As if to confirm this revelation to him, Aria spoke, uttering the very same sentence she had spoken to him upon breaking the kiss, "Don't look so shocked, Shepard. It was a spur of the moment thing. Don't think this means anything."

 _Well...that's creepy. Am I going crazy? I watched her die, and now she's here and Tali's gone and she's saying the same thing she did already? What the actual fuck?_

Ultimately, it didn't matter why this was happening...only that it was. He also knew what happened _next_.

Quickly, he looked above Aria, turning to see if he could find a purple blur heading towards her. Deciding not to take any chances, and considering how quickly Tali had descended upon her last time, he stepped forward and pushed Aria behind him, protecting her, "Tali, I know you're there!"

Aria just stared at him puzzingly, "Your quarian friend? Of course she's here...you left her with Archangel downstairs. And yes, I know his name is Archangel. It didn't take long for me to-"

"Yes, _neh'sah_!" came the familiar sound of Tali's voice, but it sounded much closer, "I'm right here! Don't worry, I'll take out the trash for you!"

The voice came from behind him, not above, and he whirled in confusion to address the threat. What he found caused his eyes to widen to ridiculous proportions, his jaw feeling like it had crashed to the floor.

Tali stood behind him, and just beside Aria, but this time she wasn't carrying a knife...no, she wielded a _krogan warhammer_ , the engravings of Clan Urdnot's insignia etched into the top of it, the entirety of the weapon easily a full four heads taller than she was. By the laws of physics, she shouldn't have been able to even pick it up, let alone wield it in a battle ready stance, the absurdly large weapon making herself puny by comparison. Yet her three-fingered hands gripped it with intent, sizing up her opponent in Aria. He had no idea why the situation had suddenly changed, but when he saw Tali prepping to swing the colossal hammer in her grip, he rushed to stop her.

Too late...again.

The quarian swung the hammer at Aria's chest, who just seemed to stand there and take it. The impact was felt from where Shepard was, feeling like a bomb going off in the distance, with the shockwave slamming into him and causing every bone in his body to shake. And Aria was unlucky enough to be burdened by the full force of it. With likely every single bone in her ribcage pulverized, the asari flew like a ragdoll across the command center until she slammed into Petrovsky's console, the impact sending a loud snap through the air as her spine was severed. She immediately fell limp, slithering to the ground in a heap. And _still_ Tali was not done.

Back to square one, Shepard just watched as Tali continued her barbaric work, walking over and proceeding to bring the hammer down not once, not twice, not thrice...but four, five, six, eight, twelve, nineteen, _twenty-seven_ times! By the time she slammed the hammer down into its final resting place, the point of the weapon dangling strings of practically disintegrated flesh from its edge, Aria was even less recognizable than before. She was essentially a puddle of destroyed bone, what looked like bits of skin, and numerous puddles of purple blood.

Tali once again, in direct contrast of Shepard's nonplussed demeanour, seemed overjoyed to see her 'foe' vanquished once again in bloody fashion, whirling to face her bondmate and smiling, leaning up against the warhammer she now had wedged in the ground, "There we go, my love...the trash has been removed!"

"You're fucking insane!" he spat, nowhere near as tongue-tied as before now that he had experienced it, "What is wrong with you? I understand she kissed me, but was that really enough to warrant bashing her to death? Where did you even get that warhammer? How are you using it!? How are-"

The flash returned. He was blinded once more.

* * *

 _Okay, this is getting ridiculous._

Well, the drill was obvious by this point. The moment the flash ended, as he predicted, he found himself face-to-face with an alive-and-well Aria, the asari pulling away from the kiss she had given him. Knowing he could not hope to predict where Tali would strike, he grabbed Aria by the arm and tried to run down the stairs, hoping to escape with her before Tali arrived.

But, right at the bottom of the stairs, stood Tali, " _Neh'sah_ , there you are. And there's the _bosh'tet hahriz da_ who kissed you!"

She whipped out a M-76 Revenant. She opened fire, and Aria was riddled with bullets.

Another white flash.

He took Aria's arm and leapt over the balcony this time, only for Chatika to appear and burn Aria alive with a series of incendiary blasts. He groaned, and closed his eyes before the flash even appeared.

Upon returning for another try, he opened a grating and went down through the vents with Aria. When they emerged, it was outside Afterlife. Shepard, believing he had finally evaded Tali's notice, turned to explain to a bewildered Aria what the hell was going on, only for him to see Aria's bissected skull slide off her head and hit the ground with a splat, Tali using her veil to wipe the blood off her ninjato, waving happily at him.

Flash.

He literally had bodyguards escort Aria to a ship in dock, and watched as it took off. His relieved composure was shattered as he watched one of the disabled defense guns turned and opened fire, obliterating the ship.

 _When did Tali become omnipotent!?_

Again and again he tried, and again and again he was countered at every turn. Whatever this purgatory was that he was trapped in, it seemed this version of Tali was its mistress, because she was always there to counter every single new strategy he developed to protect Aria. In the end, blinded by frustration, he whipped out his pistol and killed Aria himself, not stopping until he had emptied the whole clip.

Tali didn't show up.

 _There!? Are you fucking happy, you little quarian psycho!?_

The flash came for him one last time.

* * *

This time was different. When the flash dissipated, he found himself staring aimlessly at someone who was decidedly _not_ Aria, and definitely far less attractive. As he discovered thanks to his vision zoning back in, the batarian he was looking at wasn't even looking at him, seeming totally oblivious to the attention he was getting. He continued wiping at the bench infront of Shepard, and it was here that the commander noticed he was no longer standing, he wasn't wearing armor, and he was holding a single, noticeably empty glass.

 _Huh?_

Rightfully confused, he took a look around to try and garner a guess at his surroundings. He was in the lower half of Afterlife he realized, and as he looked around, he saw more and more people, all of them civilians, dancing and hollering and laughing. A few guards wearing Talon patches on their shoulders stood guard at the entrances, and the dancefloor was alight with color. None of this told him exactly how he got here however, and his brow only furrowed in further confusion at the sight of it all.

One moment, he was defending Aria from a rabid Tali who somehow managed to predict him at every turn, and kill the pirate queen each and every time without fail. Now he was in a bar, with neither person in sight, surrounded by dancing people with an empty drink in hand and no armor on. His head felt like it was swimming through an ocean admittedly, but that only amplified his growing frustration with...whatever the hell kind of purgatory he was trapped inside.

"There you are!" a voice announced to his left. He whirled to face it, but he quickly regretted that action, the swimming sensation in his head turning into a tsunami, nearly sending him flying off the stool he was on. Before he could fall though, he felt strong arms grab him, stalling his descent towards the floor. These arms hefted him back into his seat, and with his head being pulled up, he finally got a good look at the good samaritan.

It was Garrus.

"Garrrrrrruuuuus?" he slurred, burping slightly. A warmth filled his throat, suddenly and violently enough that it caused him to cough quite abruptly, leaving him to thump his chest. Once he was done, he turned back to look at the turian, trying to maintain eye contact but finding it difficult with the swinging-and-swaying of his posture, "What...the hell is...goinnnnng onnnn? TA-li just-"

"I just did what?"

He groaned, turning away from Garrus to find the quarian in question standing to his right, hands on her hips. He noticed that her body language screamed disappointment and exasperation, which was in total stark contrast to the gleefully murderous intent she had displayed earlier when she had so happily torn Aria apart. He raised a finger at her accusingly...or tried to, as his arm just flopped uselessly onto the counter, earning him another disappointed shake of the head from Tali, "Y-you! Where-you need to stop..."

"Stop doing what?" Tali asked, turning to look at Garrus, "Garrus, he's so drunk he can barely think straight. I think we better get him back to the _Normandy_."

"I know I technically challenged you to a drinking competition," his turian comrade acknowledged, reaching under one of Shepard's arms and slinging it over his shoulders, while Tali proceeded to do the same with other one, "But getting _this_ hammered was a tad over-the-top. You had already beaten me by like...eight drinks!"

"So stupid," Tali sighed, the two beginning to move in tandem as they helped Shepard out of the bar who, to his credit, just stood and let them move him, putting up little resistance...not that he had much to give, "I really don't see the obsession with demonstrating how much more alcohol you can drink than the other. What's the point?"

 _I was...having a drinking competition? With Garrus? I don't remember that..._

"A light weight such as yourself couldn't possibly understand," Garrus smugly retorted, "Its a custom of the male species. Its beyond your _female_ ability to comprehend."

Tali didn't offer another jab in response to that, simply rolling her eyes, "Men. Perhaps its best this remains 'beyond my ability to comprehend.' I like being sensible."

"So do the boring," the turian returned.

All the while the two of them bantered back and forth, Shepard was left to ponder what this all meant...and he spent his remaining trip to the _Normandy_ trying to do exactly that. Making sense of the insanity he had been engrossed in.

When he woke up the next morning, Tali was there. He groaned as his head, feeling like it weighed more than thirty elephants, could barely lift from the pillow. His bondmate had been kind enough to dim the lighting across the cabin, but the light from the fish tank still managed to bother his eyesight enough to force him to squint. If it wasn't for the pain he was in, he would have found the ethereal glow that outlined Tali's body, from where she sat on the edge of the bed, to be beautiful.

She seemed to be slightly more sympathetic this time however, although the exasperation was still present in her tone. She asked if he was okay, and he told her that he was, and that the confusion from the other night had finally been cleared up. When asked once again what he meant when he said he needed to stop her, he simply shook his head, groaning as he remembered that...moment of non-lucidity.

His response had been simple then, because it was really the only answer he had.

"Tali...I had a _weird_ fucking dream."

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_

 _ **Well, it didn't take two days, I'll admit that. The reason this prompt took so long was because I got hit with a cold just a few days after wrapping up Snapshot 19, and it effectively murdered my productivity. All I was getting done after that was working and that's it. But, I'm feeling much better now, and with that improvement, I was finally able to write this and get it done. So apologies for the wait.**_

 _ **Snapshots 21 and 22 will come after I've done Chapter 13 for EQC. Right now, its EQC's turn.**_

 _ **Until next time,**_

 _ **Keelah se'lai, bosh'tets!**_


	22. Snapshot 21: Faultless

_**This prompt was requested by Cloudless23. I've been looking forward to writing this one: I think having a moral dilemma for Tali, and showing the consequences of mistakes (perceivably) in combat, is a unique idea as far as prompts go, and as a result, I definitely enjoyed writing this. Thanks a ton for this prompt, Cloudless23!**_

* * *

Now that the chaos of battle had been lifted from the Zhu's Hope colony, Tali could take the time to properly appreciate her surroundings. Such views were not immediately apparent to the combatant who was then-focused on their own survival. This same battle to rid the terrain of hostile elements had taken just a few short minutes ago, and now that it was over, the colony was allowed to breathe a little bit, the freedom their reinforcements provided, however small, granting them much needed respite.

As for Tali, this was her first time visiting a human colony. There was the odd alien of course, but the salarian merchant they had met once the battle was over had seemed out of place in his marketplace, and his glassy expression and incongruous presence left much to be understood. As for the rest, it was as human as could be, and the quarian couldn't help allowing her curiosity to overcome her now that she had the time.

This was Zhu's Hope, the _de facto_ capital of Feros. It was a modest colony, and unlike the grand and dominating cityscapes of other human cities that she had seen pictures of, but never visited, this small township was comprised solely of small, portable 'ready-to-live' homes that many recently-established human colonies used. She imagined how much nicer it would have looked before the geth came, leaving behind the scars of war. Craters, still smoking from recent bombardment, littered the concrete pads of the colony's ground. One building was a burnt-out wreck, much of its exterior having crumbled while its interior was thoroughly torrefied, the insides burnt to ash. Dried blood littered the floors near the main chokepoints the colonists had used for rudimentary defense, the bodies they belonged to long removed from where they had come to permanently rest.

The colonists called these place home; said it was beautiful. Tali could see the trappings of it, and yet also noticed how the geth had successfully ripped it out.

 _Evil machines. I'll kill every last one I find, especially if they serve Saren._

Her time here had been brief, and she'd spent zero of it speaking to any of the colonists: she simply hadn't had the chance. The _Normandy_ had arrived on the planet just an hour ago, and the moment they were boots on the ground, they were rushing to help the colonists repel the latest in what was apparently a series of repeated geth attempts to subdue them. The terrain offered them good protection, as it stopped the geth from simply bombing it from orbit, or deploying dropships in support. As such, the geth had to arrive by foot, and the myriad of chokepoints offered excellent protection that even non-combatants seemed to know to take advantage of. By the end of it, especially with their newly arrived help, another geth assault ended in failure, and they retreated.

While Shepard stayed back to get intel from the colony's leader, Fai Dan, he sent the squad out to help the colonists recover from the attack. Garrus and Wrex were heading down to clear out geth in the tunnels belong Zhu's Hope, Ashley and Kaidan were to consult with Arcelia Martinez, the colony's chief of security, in more sophisticated anti-geth tactics, and Liara and Tali were to help the smaller problems such as technical issues and logistics. Tali, naturally, was assigned to coordinate with Feros' tech expert, Hana Murakami, who was apparently over near the _Borealis_ : the ship the salarian had come in on, and which had been grounded and torn apart for scrap when the salarian, for whatever reason, decided to stay.

Tali hadn't been a member of the _Normandy_ 's crew for very long...no longer than a month, really. She shared this with Garrus, Wrex and Liara, all three of whom had joined the crew after Commander Shepard recruited them. Each had come into contact with Shepard through one way or another, but it all linked back to Saren. Garrus wanted to gather evidence to prove Saren's treason. Wrex had been hired by Saren at one point for a job, and was also hired by the Shadow Broker to kill Fist, a former Broker agent turned traitor, who was going to kill Tali for evidence she had on Saren's treason, which Garrus and Shepard wanted. Liara was the daughter of Matriarch Benezia, one of Saren's lieutenants. All the pieces fit, so here they were.

In her short time on the ship, she had found herself getting familiar and comfortable with the operations of a human warship, and more specifically, what it was like to fight under the command of a non-quarian officer. It was strange she had to admit, and given she was still on pilgrimage, the idea of fighting in combat almost constantly was an unexpected one. But with each passing battle she improved, and the various skills she had learned (maintaining a weapon from Ashley, making use of tactics from Garrus, hand-to-hand from Shepard, proper usage of a shotgun from Wrex, etc.) were helping her with each subsequent encounter. Despite the difference in specialities among each squad member, they functioned like a well oiled machine.

And that was down purely to the commander who ran it all.

He fascinated her. Not just because he was...well, pretty handsome...but because he somehow got a squad comprised of a pilgrim, a battlemaster, a detective, an archaelogist and two soldiers to work together cohesively and to maximum effect. He was the glue that held them together, and he was special indeed. Knew all the right things to say, made good use of their skills in battle, and to top it off, watching him fight was a spectacle. All these factors made it an honor to serve under him, and the kindness he showed her especially, given her people's reputation, filled her with a happiness that was difficult to keep contained. He treated her like an equal, and he never deliberately left her out of briefings. He even invited her to his cabin to give her opinion on the occasional after-action report. It was an experience like no other.

Her pilgrimage, quite frankly, seemed to blow all the others out of the water. She needn't fear returning to the Fleet an unaccomplished child.

 _By the end of this, I can successfully say that I helped hunt down the Council's best spectre, killed thousands of geth to avenge my ancestors, helped maintain the drive core of the pride of the Alliance Navy, and served under the command of the famous Commander Shepard. Even if I don't return with a gift, which I will, I have that to remember alone. And if my father doesn't think that's good enough...then too bad, the bek'pa._

It was silly of her, but she had to resist the temptation to jump up and down on the balls of her toes as she thought of her turn of fortune. She had gone from scared and on the run, to being emboldened and the one in pursuit. Sure, the threat they faced was dangerous, and if Shepard's visions were to be believed, quite possibly the greatest threat the galaxy had ever seen, but that's what made it so exciting. The adventure, the intrigue, the danger...it all molded together to create a high stakes mission that left her heart beating faster than it should.

And, if she was to be honest, it beat just a little bit faster whenever Shepard was around. Although she would never have the audacity or courage to admit that to his face. She blushed just thinking about it. But there could be no doubt that when he was around, she could be found grinning behind her mask. He was just so nice, so kind, so handsome, so unredeemingly attractive, and whenever she saw him, her thoughts wondered to-

She shook her head, her blush increasing to nuclear reactor-levels of hot. She couldn't believe she was losing control of her thoughts like that, and remained ever so grateful that her mask existed to keep this embarassment shy from the world's notice. If Shepard knew what kind of state he reduced her to everytime he was near, it'd make him uncomfortable, and she didn't want to ruin the friendship she believed was developing between them. And she certainly didn't want rob of herself of any time with him.

 _I won't ruin this opportunity by saying something stupid that makes him second guess my position on the team. I need to show him I'm capable of keeping my emotions in check more than anything else, and my puerile crush will not get in the way of that. This isn't Fleet and Flotilla. If anything, he'll go for Liara, or Ashley. Two beautiful women who he can have whenever he wants. Keelah, why am I even thinking about t-_

She quickly banished that train of thought from her mind, not spending another moment thinking abou it than was necessary. It was a fleeting moment of fantasy she had gripped handily, and she tried her best to squash it with what willpower she had. Besides, she had a job to do at the moment, and she would see that it was done. She didn't have time for anything else, especially since Shepard wanted the squad to move out within the next hour. They were going to push onto the ExoGeni building to eliminate the geth presence there, hopefully finding out why Saren was interested in attacking such a perceivably low-value target in the first place.

Rounding the corner, Tali thought it might be difficult to locate her quarry, but that worry was for nought. She found the woman crouched beside the crane lift controls, the same crane that had its claws latched around the midship hull of the _Borealis_ , which had been detached from the rest so that it could, apparently, be lifted away at a moment's notice. Why this existed was beyond Tali's comprehension, but she didn't question it, believing it to be some odd idiosyncrasy the colony possessed, or a tactic whose purpose was unknown to her. Whatever the case, it wasn't any of her business, and she wasn't here for that.

The woman was immediately identifiable because she was standing infront of the controls, fingers working over it like she knew the instrumentation like the back of her hand. Only one person, according to Fai Dan, was authorized to operate the crane controls, and that was Murakami. She was different to other humans in that her eyes were narrower in appearance compared to other humans she had met (apparently they belonged to a subspecies on Earth known as 'Asians', although the exact context of this was lost to her), and she had black hair with hazel eyes. Her skin was lightly tanned, and the uniform she wore identified her as a crew member of the _Borealis_ , with the ship's insignia embroidened in a patch adorning her left breast, and both her shoulder pauldrons. She must have come in with the salarian when the ship arrived.

"Excuse me?" she asked, quickly approaching the human. She seemed startled by the quarian's swift appearance, and tapped at a few more buttons in rapid succession. Tali didn't pay much attention to this, despite how odd she found the action. Her secret task complete, Murakami looked back up at Tali, "Are you Hana Murakami?"

"Um...yes," Murakami spoke with some suspicion, narrowing her eyes at the quarian, "And you are? What do you want?"

Tali didn't understand the human's hesitation, but decided to entertain her anyway. More likely she was still shaken from the brutality of the repeated geth attacks. It was easy to forget these people were civilians after all, and thus weren't trained to cope with the stress and horrors of combat. Tali wasn't fully used to it, but Murakami and her compatriots weren't taken under the wing of a special forces commander and war hero like she was, "Well, Fai Dan was speaking with my commmander, and he told me to come help with you with any technical problems you might have. I'm an engineer."

"Oh," Murakami replied dumbly, scratching the back of her neck as she suddenly fell back from her initial policy of confrontation and seemed to show remorse, "I...well, I didn't know that, sorry. Uh...I don't need any help over here. Everything's under control."

"You sure?" Tali asked, eying the crane control screen to see what Murakami was monitoring, "What are you monitoring on the screen?"

Murakami, from what Tali saw, was a temperamental person thus far, prone to emotional swings that were random and entirely impossible to predict. First, she was suspicious. Then she was nervous. But upon hearing Tali's question, she swung to the opposite...she became openly rude.

"Don't look at that!" she snapped, reaching out an arm to block Tali's view of the screen, "Its...none of your business! Listen, I don't need any help! Ask Fai Dan if you can help anyone else."

Despite the woman's apparent brusque behaviour, Tali felt the need to apologize. Obviously she had strucken a cord with her, and given what she had experienced, it would be unfair to judge her based on notions of proper social etiquette. After all, people who hadn't experienced combat and had been thrust into it were little like themselves upon surviving it, and were usually polar opposites emotionally. Still, her possessiveness over simple pair of lift controls seemed sketchy, and she was curious to know what that was about: but not if it were to provoke an argument. Holding up her hands placatingly, she nodded, "Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude in on whatever you were doing. I just wanted to know if you needed any help."

That seemed to calm Murakami down, who lifted her arm away once she was convinced Tali had given up on her intrusions, "That's fine, and I'm...sorry for being so...rude. The battle...its been...rough on all of us. I lost my boyfriend in the third wave. My best friend on the eighth. Things haven't been the same since. Please, any help you can offer would be much appreciated, but I don't personally need it."

 _Keelah, the things these people have been through. She doesn't even live here and yet she seems to have lost everything._

Tali nodded with a sympathetic smile, "I understand, Miss Murakami. I didn't mean to bother you. And I'm sorry for your loss. I hope we can help get those bastards back for what they've done. As a quarian, I understand what you're going through. I've lost many friends to them as well."

"Thank you," Murakami returned, finally showing evidence of a smile, and just as Tali was turning to leave, the woman finally addressed her openly, "Um...if I may ask...what's your name?"

"Tali'Zorah nar Rayya," she returned happily, turning back around to hold her hand out, a gesture she knew to be common around humans, "But you can just call me Tali."

Murakami accepted it with a nervous laugh, "Thanks. Sorry if I seem...a little, uh...unprepared. I've just...never met a quarian before."

"I hope I haven't given a bad impression of my race," she quickly assured.

"Oh... _oh_! No no no no no! Not at all!" Murakami covered her mouth, eyes wide open as she reached out to placate her fellow engineer, "In fact, you seem quite nice. Sorry again for what I said...Fai Dan's given me a very important task to complete, and I must ensure its complete."

"What task?" Tali found the words leaving her mouth before she had anytime to think about them. She cringed hearing them leaving her mouth, and cringed even harder predicting what the response to them would be.

The human shook her head, returning to her console, "No, I've said too much. If you want to know more, speak to Fai Dan. I've got a job to do. Thanks for trying to help me, but I can take it from here. Goodbye."

Inwardly berating herself for her stupidity, Tali quietly bade farewell and decided to find Shepard. No doubt he was finished talking with Fai Dan by now, and she wanted to tell him of what happened. At first she had been willing to dismiss Murakami's oddness as simply battle fatigue and post-traumatic stress, but her obsession with barring an ally from helping her, or even seeing, a crane control's terminal seemed suspicious to her, overriding her sympathy. Something else was going on...and Shepard needed to know about it.

She found him waiting at the exit to the colony, where they had fended off the latest geth attack just an hour before. Shepard was alone but his helmet was latched to his hip and his lips were moving as if he was speaking to someone...more than likely Joker on the _Normandy_. When he saw her coming, he quickly wrapped up his conversation with the pilot and turned to her, his expression worn and serious. He rarely smiled during missions, nor exhibited any of his other more friendly traits. Today was no different, especially not after what they had all seen these colonists go through, "Need anything, Tali?"

"Yes commander," she stated. She took a quick look around them to make sure they were alone, and upon failing to see Fai Dan or anyone else, turned back to him, voice a whisper, "Sir, I think the colonists are hiding something. When I spoke with Murakami, she really didn't want me looking at the crane's instrumentation. She got very hostile about it. And I've noticed really peculiar mood swings as well. I thought it was just post-battle stress..."

"-but you think it might be something else," he finished for her, and upon seeing Tali nodding in confirmation, he nodded in reciprocation. She thought he might call her out for wrongly assessing the situation, but that turned out to not be the case, "Good catch. I've noticed it too. Every colonist I've talked to has refused to talk to me about anything, and the only answer I get is to speak with Fai Dan. But when I do point out the odd occurrences, he waves it off like its nothing. And you say Murakami has refused to let you near the crane? Did she explain why?"

"No. Only that she had the situation in hand," she shrugged, shaking her head, "I don't get it, commander. What situation? I don't get why a crane is getting prioritized in the middle of a siege. And even for post-traumatic stress, they all seem so...casual about it. They don't look fazed at all."

"There's definitely something going on here," he replied, opening his omni-tool to look over his chronometer. He clicked his tongue, another odd human gesticulation she hadn't fully come to understand yet, "Once we've dealt with the geth and found out why Saren is here, we'll come back and get answers. Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Tali. Good eye."

"Thank you, sir," she stated in reply, smiling back at him.

She wouldn't be smiling if she knew the truth.

* * *

 _Now_ they knew why the colonists were acting strange.

It hadn't taken their squad long to discover the truth behind the colony's odd behaviour. As promised, the squad took the Mako and quickly pushed through the geth forces along the sky bridge towards the ExoGeni building. After finding more survivors who had been cut off from Zhu's Hope, they continued to the geth-occupied facility and dismounted, going from room to room as they cleared the entire complex. It was a tiresome, meticulous task, and by the end of it, they were on their last nerves.

Utilizing Tali's suggestion to close the cargo bay doors to amputate the geth frigate's support arms to sever it from the structure (a tactic Shepard had praised as brilliant, much to her own pride), they destroyed the only geth warship present, allowing them to mop up the survivors in short order. To them, it seemed like the battle was won. The geth had been thoroughly defeated, and Zhu's Hope could rest easy.

If only it was that simple.

During their trek throughout the facility, the team had come across evidence of an unsanctioned, and highly illegal, scientific experiment being conducted upon a creature that had been unearthed underneath the Zhu's Hope outpost. Species 37, or as the creature had identified itself, 'the Thorian', was a plant-like being that had lived underneath Feros' service for tens of thousands, if not millions, of years. According to the logs detailing its discovery, as soon as it was unearthed, the ExoGeni excavation team quickly exhibited signs of passive, almost docile, behaviour. When anyone triedto interact with it, the team became hostile, _defending it_. ExoGeni were able to recover samples from a captured excavator, and quickly discovered signs of hallucinogenic spores which induced a state of passivity in its infected hosts, but were littered with neurotransmitters that responded to signals imputted by the Thorian itself over a large radius.

In short...the Thorian was controlling the minds of the team, turning them into servants. ExoGeni correctly deduced this to be a method of survival, not domination, and that it likely felt threatened by ExoGeni's attempts to interact with it, and was taking control of everyone in sight in order to protect itself. In order to experiment with this, and learn the extent of it...ExoGeni allowed the Thorian to spread its spores over the entire Zhu's Hope colony, infecting everyone within. But before the experiment could be completed...Saren and his geth arrived.

It was easy to paint a picture of what happened. Saren tried to interact with the Thorian for one reason or another. The Thorian felt threatened, and activated its sleeper agents. The colonists, spurred on by the spores within them, fended off the geth attacks, dying to protect the Thorian. Saren wanted Species 37, and had failed to get it.

The colonist's actions made a whole lot more sense now, especially Murakami. She didn't want them near the crane controls because the Thorian was hidden underneath the _Borealis_ , which had been deliberately moved ontop of the unearthed complex to both hide its location, and protect it from being discovered. The truth of their oddity was made apparent.

Upon their discovery, they endeavoured to clear out the ExoGeni building first. But upon doing so, Joker informed them that the colonists had started besieging the _Normandy_ , trying to get inside.

The Thorian knew the game was up. It was going into full defense mode.

The team raced back to Zhu's Hope, acquiring a specialized nerve agent codenamed Theraxes I. ExoGeni had apparently developed a prototype of the agent as a contingency in case the Thorian control group broke containment. The nerve agent was designed to minimalize casualties and neutralize the infected hosts simultaneously, allowing them full deniabilty should their research come to light. The hosts would be knocked unconscious, with no lasting harm brought to them and the spores inside them pacified. However, when the geth attack hit, they hadn't developed beyond a dozen initial prototypes, and thus it wasn't able to be deployed in time. The squad took the twelve working prototypes available, knowing they'd have to use them sparingly.

When they arrived at the colony, they were engaged immediately. The Thorian had also deployed some of its own creations: ExoGeni referred to them as 'creepers', and they were zombie-like humanoid animals that the Thorian had fashioned from its own organic tissue as a makeshift army. Their eyeless sockets, slow gait, sickly green skin and the moaning sounds that left their mouths shook Tali to the core, but her shotgun made short work of them...shredding through their fragile skeletal structure, eviscerating them easily.

The squad had two Thorian grenades per person, but each grenade packed one hell of an area of effect. A dozen or so of the colonists had deployed along a makeshift defensive position outside the elevator, but even with their enhanced combat capabilities, they were still no match for a seasoned warrior such as Shepard. He tossed his first grenade with an arc that carried it straight into the middle of their cluster. The explosion exploded, sending a green mist to immediately choke the entire area in a thick mist. Shepard and their squad, aside from their nostrils scrunching in disgust form the cold sting of the gas, were unaffected...while the colonists dropped like flies, rendered inert almost instantly. The squad waltzed past them...a bloodless engagement.

So far...so good.

Upon taking the elevator to the Zhu's Hope colony, Shepard led the squad straight towards the nearest chokepoint. As expected, the enemy waited for them, with Arcelia leading the defense. Wrex used up one of his grenades, and just as before, they fell like flies. Arcelia was the last to fall, her sealed helmet slowing the passage of the gas into her lungs, but she put up little fight as she collapsed, Shepard walking right over her, followed by the rest of his squad.

"Okay team," he spoke, turning to them with his rifle lowered slightly, "They likely know about the gas by now, so they'll try to spread out to limit its effectiveness. We'll need to split up to counter this. Wrex, Alenko, you're with me, we'll punch towards the east and secure the main square. Vakarian, T'Soni, sweep around to the west and see if you can mop up the eastern approach. Tali, you're with Williams. Take the middle and secure the crane controls. We'll rendezvous at the _Borealis_ when we're done. You all know the ROE, so let's get this quick before the Thorian catches on. And remember...if you run out of grenades, you're authorized to use whatever means necessary to knock them out...and if all else fails, and lethal force is necessary...don't hesitate."

He singled her and Liara out when he said that. She knew why. _We're the rawest of the squad. Wrex is a battlemaster, Ashley and Kaidan are marines, and Garrus is former military. They understand the rules of war. Kill or be killed. We don't have that distinction._

No questions were asked. The squad split up and advanced towards their preset destinations, Tali following close behind Ashley. The marine's armoured hide and combat experience made Tali feel more assured in her presence, especially compared to her own lack of both. She knew the basics of a shotgun, and her tech abilities were unparalleled by the rest of the team, but if it came to the down and dirty, Ashley would be the one to save the day.

"Keep close to me Tali and we'll get this done quickly," the woman reassured, seemingly reading the quarian's thoughts, "Keep your cool. Don't panic. Finger off your trigger, but close enough to pull it. Don't get nervy on me. Don't need you flinging slugs all over the place. God gave me armor, but not nine lives."

She knew the marine was just trying to keep Tali's spirits up. Tali had always seen people who mistrusted aliens as black-and-white before. Racists were racists, and she always interpreted mistrust as hatred for her people. But Ashley, despite being warned by Shepard that she might take a while to get used to Tali, warmed up to the quarian straight away. She still remembered the time on Therum when the Gunnery Chief had tackled her out of the way of a geth hopper, stomping on its face and emptying a clip into its optics, before helping the quarian to her feet. She had been humiliated, especially after wanting to prove herself to Shepard and making such a rookie mistake like turning her back to an enemy, but Ashley had simply grinned and said, "Don't worry, I'm your guardian angel, Tali. Want to be mine?"

 _Yes, Ashley. I think I will be._

Ashley checked her corners, stopping and starting every few seconds to sweep her rifle over a surrounding area before continuing. They came across the occasional colonist putting up a lone wolf struggle. Wasting grenades on individuals, especially due to their lack of them, was a bad idea, so they did their best to be gentle. Eventually though, it evolved into weapon-butts and the use of disruptor ammo to stun them. Ashley did most of the work, though...Tali couldn't bring herself to harm innocent civilians like that, even ones that were trying to kill them.

The hardest part came when Tali rounded a corner, only for a small shape to run at her and grab her leg, punching her over and over. The hits were light and barely felt however, and Tali felt like the individual, in the end, was doing more harm to themselves than to her. She heard Ashley sigh behind her.

"Kids..." she looked down at the child beating Tali's leg with indecision, "Damn...I don't know how to handle this. Any ideas?"

"None," she replied after a moment, genuinely lacking any real solution to this problem.

After a moment, Ash raised her rifle, switched to disruptor ammo, and fired. The kid fell to the ground, shaking spastically as the tazer-like dart send shocks throughout his body, immobilizing him. She sighed again, "Wish there was another way...come on, we should get moving. Crane is just around this corner, yeah?"

Tali, staring off into the distance, barely heard what Ashley said, her eyes fixed on the child still shaking on the ground, their tremors beginning to calm down. Her only indication that Ashley had been talking was when she clicked her fingers infront of the quarian's face, causing her to snap out of her trance and turn to the marine, "Sorry?"

"We're almost through this," she reassured her, "Just hold it together a little longer."

"Right," she nodded, gripping her shotgun a little bit more tightly, "Yes, you're right. The crane...its uh...just around here."

Ashley gave a sympathetic nod, her features under her helmet softening a bit, "Let's go."

And so they left the child, now unconscious, to his own devices, advancing upon their destination with haste.

When they reached the crane controls, it was predictably under heavy guard. Sixteen colonists flanked each side, and oftened fire with lightning sharp speed as Ashley and Tali rounded the corner. Bullets pinged off their shields, but they held, and both Ashley and Tali tossed their grenades. Two clouds of gas appeared, and consumed the consciousness of those caught within its radius. Sixteen foes became sixteen sleepers.

"Clear," Ashley announced, giving Tali the indication she could now relax. The two of them lowered their weapons, Ashley turning towards Tali and lightly hitting her in the shoulder with a soft punch. Tali was told it was a common act of comraderie among human marines, "See? All done. I told you we'd get through it. Now we've just got to-"

A distinct sound got both of their attention: it was the sound of an object clattering down nearby. Both of their heads turned with the object, and found it landing just a few meters away from them, the circular object coming to rest with a roll, a beeping red semi-spherical dot ontop of it flashing angrily.

They both recognized it instantly. Tali was slow to react, but Ashley wasn't. Her reflexes and training kicking in, she swiftly rushed towards Tali and tackled her out of the way, "GRENADE! MOVE-"

Whoever had thrown the grenade in question was a terrible throw, because they had already been on the periphery of its blast radius when it was thrown. However, the blast was enough that the concussive shockwave caught them both and sent them flying through the air temporarily, landing with dual thuds just a couple meters away from its epicenter. They landed with grunts, shrapnel bouncing off Ashley's armor, her presence beside Tali thankfully saving her from a suit rupture, both their suit's shields beeping harshly as they warned their users of their shredded protection.

What came next happened far too quickly for Tali to properly process. While they were both recovering from the blast, Ashley's rifle tossed away during the blast, a lone figure was sprinting towards them, pistol wielded tightly in her grip and screaming like some demonic creature as she descended upon the two vulnerable soldiers, eager to make the kill.

But as the woman got closer...she recognized her.

It was Murakami. The nervous woman was almost unrecognizable due to the hate-filled expression that was now reflected in her eyes. Her intent was bloody murder, and she had the means to enact her cruel retribution in her hand.

She was moving too fast to deploy a grenade, and without their shields, she could make short work of both of them. The woman, likely identifying Ashley as the larger threat out of both of them, made the marine a priority, and as she arrived, she was raising her pistol, taking aim at Ashley's head, even as the marine reached for her sidearm, Murakami screaming all the while the same shrill note that echoed in Tali's ears.

Tali had never acted as fast as she had in that moment.

Her shotgun too far away, she whipped out her sidearm. She didn't think about what she was doing. She didn't even contemplate the fact that, due to her relying on her shotgun, her pistol's ammo had never been switched to the non-lethal disruptor darts. She didn't have time to think about that...and it only registered in her mind when it was too late.

A pistol fired. Murakami's head snapped back, blood spurting from the back of her skull as it was blown apart. Tali's sidearm smoked as Murakami's now lifeless body collapsed to the floor, pistol slipping from her grip to clatter to the floor, her screeches finally silenced.

Tali's eyes were left wide open, her grip on her weapon surprisingly sturdy and stiff despite the shaking dread that was beginning to take root deep within her. Even as Ashley stood up, shouting at Tali to stand up, she didn't take any notice. All she could think of was the fact that she had just murdered a civilian in cold blood, and that she had failed her mission of preserving as many civilians as possible.

Murakami. That name would remain within her psyche forever.

The first civilian Tali had ever killed.

* * *

Many hours had passed since the Battle for Zhu's Hope had come to a close. And she wasn't feeling any better.

Shepard's operation to save the colony had been a nearly universal success. Most of the colonists were knocked out and neutralized save one, and they later descended to confront the Thorian in the depths of its lair. It had taken some convincing on her end, but once she had snapped out of her delirium, she insisted on continuing with the mission. Shepard might have considered leaving her behind if it wasn't for Fai Dan's arrival, followed his struggle for control over his mind...leading to death by his own hands. That incident led to him ignoring what had happened, and she went with them into the lair below.

The following fight was tough, and terrifying. Creepers surrounded them on all sides, but Tali's shotgun never stopped firing, and the squad stuck together, using their vast array of skill sets to carve a path through the infestation. Biotics lit up the room, rifle fire cracked and slew enemies left and right, and her shotgun boomed alongside Wrex's, tearing through rank after rank of feral beings on their way to destroying the Thorian. By the end of it, once the Thorian had finally been vanquished, Tali's suit was drenched in putrid, lumpy green gore, and yet she couldn't care less.

Her thoughts were still with the civilian she had killed.

So their victory ran hollow in her mind. Even when Shepard absorbed the cipher from Shiala, and the _Normandy_ 's crew helped the Zhu's Hope colonists, now freed of the Thorian's influence, to rebuild from the geth attack, Tali still couldn't bring herself to forget Murakami. The engineer who had lost her family and friends to the geth...and lost her life to one of their creators.

 _I'm a monster. I should have done what I could to save her. To do what was right. That was my job. My only job, and I screwed it all up._

She elected to make herself scarce. Returning to the _Normandy_ , she tried to dive into her work in engineering, but they ultimately proved fruitless because she couldn't think properly. So she aimlessly wandered the ship until she finally reached the end of the sleeper pod deck near the mess hall, one of the most empty places of the ship during work hours. Curling up in a ball, she allowed her thoughts to dive deeper into darker territory, and she couldn't help the places her mindset took her too.

Her hiding place wasn't good enough, apparently. She heard footsteps coming up the deck that were approaching her position, but she didn't bother to acknowledge them or turn to see who it was. She remained still and silent, trying to come to terms with the overwhelming guilt she felt, while the person who had approached adopted the same inner vow of stillness, sitting down next to her, knees close to their chest but arms resting ontop of them.

However, when they spoke, she felt her eyes close in embarassment, because it became apparent to her who was sitting next to her, "Ashley told me you had returned to the ship. Is everything alright?"

This version of Shepard sounded far less professional and stoic now that he had shed his armor and the battle had ended. Now he was cordial and caring, and when she turned to look at him, his expression was gentle and understanding, full of curiosity but not willing to force the issue. She sighed quietly, not loud enough to be heard by the man. She shook her head, "No...its not alright, commander. I...messed up. I'm a monster, and now I'll most likely have to live with what I've done for the rest of my life."

"You mean the civilian," he pointed out, "Hana Murakami."

"Yes," she choked up, the stinging and blinding myopia of tears beginning to well up in her eyes. She felt shame and disgust at her actions dote upon her their unwelcome retribution, and all at once, she felt like she was surrounded by an aura of iniquity, "I killed her without thought, and for that, I deserve reprimand. The mission was to save lives...I took hers without a second thought...and now she's gone. She lost her boyfriend and her best friend to the geth...and now one of their creators has taken hers. I...I don't deserve to be in your squad. I don't deserve to be a part of this fight."

If Shepard had an answer for her, he wasn't immediately forthcoming about it. Actually, he remained rather quiet for a few minutes, allowing Tali to stew in her own misery for an inordinate length of time. She willed him to say something, even if it was to confirm her fears of being told to back her bags and leave, just so that she wouldn't have to set there and be deafened by the most horrid sound of all: nothing.

But then he replied, and his voice was full of hesitant trepidation, almost like he wasn't sure what he was about to say could be said, but that he would try to do so anyway, "I get where you're coming from, Tali. Yes, the mission was to preserve lives...and you did. Murakami, from how Ashley says it, would have killed Ashley had you not acted. You couldn't have changed the outcome, no matter how you try to splice it."

"That's not true," she refuted, "My pistol should have seen set to disruptor rounds. Its what we had been using the entire time. I got neglectful. Complacent. I wasn't concentrating properly, and Murakami paid the price. There's no place for that kind of incompetence on your team."

"You're right. There isn't," he confirmed, his tone dark. She shivered underneath its harsh deliverance, despite having essentially asked for it. But Shepard surprised her as he continued, his tone lifting, "But you're not incompetent. You're a fine engineer, and I'm proud to have you on my team. You're not the best soldier, but you're a fast learner. You can ponder what you could have done differently until you're blue in the face, but foresight isn't 20-20. Constantly second-guessing your own actions is more dangerous than the action itself. If you ever hope to command your own team someday, you'll learn that second-guessing yourself can be what gets your men killed. Besides...if you think you're alone on this, you're not."

"What? Alone in killing civilians?" Tali sarcastically snapped, temporarily forgetting herself before regaining her composure, "Sorry commander, but I doubt anybody else on the team has killed civilians and gotten away with it."

" _I_ didn't just get away with it," he grimly muttered, his expression becoming distant and desolate, "I was promoted for it."

She had no words to say. Her misery briefly forgotten, she slowly turned, sniffing, to look at him, finding the same expression from before turning to face her. The smile he had wasn't happy or amused; it was a bitter expression, dunked in ironic indulgence. When she could finally get past her shock at this revelation, she managed to form words in response, "You...you killed civilians?"

"One. Just one, like you," he admitted, shrugging, "It was...a man. Unlike Murakami, he wasn't armed. He wasn't about to kill one of my comrades. He wasn't a threat. It was simply...an accident. And afterwards, I got promoted. I was a First Lieutenant at the time. At the end of the battle, I got promoted to Lieutenant Commander...the rank I have now."

She hesitated for a moment, not sure whether or not she should ask for context. The shock of learning that the commander she believed to be invulnerable to moral corruption was capable of such a crime as the one that she was now guilty of seemed impossible to her, and yet here Shepard was, contradicting her own beliefs on his personality, and demonstrating just how little she knew about him. Luckily for her, she needn't have continued, as Shepard did so without being asked.

"Wasn't long before the end of the Skyllian Blitz," he elaborated, licking his lips, "My squad, Charlie, had been wiped out during an attack on a batarian bunker during the first Battle of Torfan. I captured it alone in the end, and was given a field reassignment by Major Kyle as commander of a company, H company, who had lost their LT when one of our siege engineers detonated his fougasse too early. At that point, our forces had overwhelmed the Hegemony's defensive positions, and it became a cleanup operation. A simple sweep-and-clear, I thought. So I led them, bunker to bunker, clearing out hostiles and taking prisoners when, and if, they surrendered. We lost a few men to mines and booby traps some retreating Hegemony soldiers left out of spite, so that really wore down our morale. I kept going, but my men were tired, agitated and beaten. Trigger-fingers were sketchy. I told them to watch their fire, but there were one too many times where one of my men would mistake a surrendering trooper as reaching for a weapon, when he wasn't. I saved quite a few lucky prisoners by noticing that. Wish I'd been that quick with the last bunker."

Tali didn't say a word. She just listened. Clearly this troubled Shepard to talk about, and to interrupt him would be disrespectful. So she would sit down, shut up...and listen.

Shepard thanked her for this by continuing his tale, "Then came the last bunker...remember, the men were exhausted, so they couldn't be blamed for...well, what we found. We were expecting more enemy soldiers. But as we were approaching the bunker, you can imagine my surprise when an unarmed, batarian female...something which none of my men had seen before, as the Hegemony doesn't let their women serve in the military, so they're a rare sight to aliens...popped out. She was waving her hands over her head, telling us the last bunker had women and children inside, where they had been evacuated to when we began bombing the fortifications from orbit. They apparently told their people it'd be safer to stay in the bunkers, and that the Alliance would be firebombing the cities to maximize civilian casualties. Due to propaganda...they thought we were going to slaughter them. This woman was begging for her child's life, basically dropped down to her feet, grabbed my leg and started weeping. I told her it was going to be alright, that we wouldn't hurt her...but she didn't stop. She just kept begging."

He shook his head, scratching his chin, "The Hegemony were so oppressive that they went to every length to ensure their people couldn't be 'corrupted' by foreign races. And the best way to control information is to limit your people's understanding of it. Hegemony citizens didn't have universal translators. She couldn't understand a word I was saying. No wonder she was terrified...she must have thought I sounded like a rabid animal, speaking an alien tongue. Ultimately, all it did was confuse both sides, and no progress was made. Then...the worst happened. The husband and son ran out."

Tali's breath caught in her throat. She watched his expression shift from blank indifference to...melancholy.

"My men had stood down, but they were jittery. On edge," Shepard explained, "When the husband ran out, he did so way too quickly. One of my men panicked...after all, it wasn't uncommon for diehard loyalists, those soldiers who were so suffused by the propaganda that they literally believed they were destined to live a new life of immortality amongst the Founders, who had nowhere else to run, to strap explosives to themselves and run straight at the enemy, hoping to kill as many as possible. We'd encountered many that day...and that husband looked no different as he sprinted out. No idea what drove him to do that. Maybe he thought his wife was in danger. Maybe he really did plan to attack us. All I know is what happened next."

He turned to her, no amount of pride in his voice whatsoever, "I don't remember who fired the shot, but they did. Once in the chest, again in the head. I can still remember the wife screaming at me. She started wacking my leg. I turned to see who fired the shot, but he was already being shouted at by his sergeant. When I turned around...the son was rushing to protect his mother. He wasn't holding a weapon of any sort. I was head-to-toe in heavy combat armor. His fists couldn't harm me...he wasn't remotely even a threat. But I pulled that trigger anyway, and the son died. And they fucking promoted me afterwards...gave me a Medal of Valor too. Said it was for my actions in storming a heavily manned bunker by myself, with no support, and taking it in an effort that freed up suppressed friendly armor and allowed our forces to advance and punch through the Hegemony's center. I was a hero again, and not long after Elysium too. Yeah, what a fucking hero I was."

"Commander, that's..." she trailed off, not sure of what to say to any of that, "I'm so sorry."

He sighed explosively, shrugging, "Don't feel sorry for me, feel sorry for the wife whose family my men took from her. Feel sorry for the boy, only sixteen years old, who I gunned down without thinking. But most importantly...learn from what I've just told you. I've lived with the guilt of those deaths on my conscience ever since. They still haunt me today...that will never leave you, that much I promise. That doesn't make you a monster. What you do next determines who you are. Do you endeavour to do better, or kill some more because it makes you feel good, or simply because you don't care? You want to know who does the latter? Saren Arterius. And I can tell you right now, neither of us are like him. We don't kill civilians because they get in our way. And when we do, its because we're left with no choice...either its an accident, or like you, you're left with no choice. Because a friend's life hangs on your decision to pull that trigger. Duty drives us to do better."

Tali didn't respond, allowing what Shepard had told her to stew in her head for a little while longer. He spoke the truth, she knew it, and perhaps she had needed a wake up call to break her out of the stupor she had been engaged in. Shepard knew duty better than she did, and if he had already forgiven her for her actions, why couldn't she? And he wasn't wrong...they weren't Saren. She didn't kill Murakami out of convenience...she killed her because she would have killed Ashley, given the chance. Should her pistol have had disruptor ammo equipped? Probably. Can that fact be changed? No. And in the end, a friend of hers is alive because of that choice.

Shepard took her silence to mean something else however, "Look Tali...if you don't feel like you're up to combat missions anymore...you need only ask. I can pull you from the squad roster and delegate you ship-based duties, such as like what you're doing in engineering already."

She considered it, but knew this wasn't the path she was destined towards. She wasn't someone to live on the sidelines, watching the battle play out from the safety of an engine room. No, she needed to be there amongst the thick of it, and accident or not, she would be there. Shepard had taught her an important lesson, and it wasn't one she'd forget.

She looked up at him, strength and pride returning to her form as she put strength behind her words, "No...I can do it. Duty drives me to do better, and I fully intend to do so, commander. If you'll have me."

That caused him to smile, and it was the sweetest gesture she'd seen from the man. It made her smile by reflex, "I'd be glad to have you. I'll give you sometime alone to figure things out, but the debrief will be in the conference room at 1600 hours to discuss what happened on Feros. If you still want to be a part of the squad...I'll see you there." As he finished, he was already in the process of standing up.

"Will do, commander," she replied, nodding in thanks. She wouldn't let him down.

He was walking down the sleeper pod deck when he suddenly stopped however, and with a smile still on his face, he turned towards her, "Tali...I notice you still call me 'commander'. I just want you to know that you can just call me Shepard off mission, if you like."

She smiled, and felt happiness overcome her at the approval he showed her, "I'll do that...Shepard."

He didn't say anything. He just nodded and continued to smile as he left.

Murakami's death would be a part of her forever. She knew that. But it ultimately helped to forge who she was today, and as she stood infront of a platoon of Rannoch Republican Marines on the homeworld, decked in full combat armor and holding the rank of Admiral, imparting upon them the same lesson her husband had taught her well over a decade before, she remembered Murakami once more, and the batarian husband and his son.

Always do better. Endeavour to do your best.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_

 _ **Yeahhhhhhh...but so what if I went overboard with the prompt? I loved the concept and I had a ton of fun writing it! I just wish I could have had this scene in I: Enigma...would have given that story some much needed character development for Tali, and flesh out the eventual romance between her and Shepard. Oh well. As for you Cloudless...well, let me know, dude! This is your prompt!**_

 _ **Up next will be Snapshot 22. This is yet another dark prompt, so fasten your seatbelts...its gonna be another tear jerker.**_

 _ **Until then,**_

 _ **Keelah se'lai, troopers!**_


	23. Snapshot 22: One Last Embrace

_**This prompt was requested by Polandkiwi. Yes, this is yet another dark prompt, however rest assured its the last one for Flashpoint. The rest after this are fluffy, so be rest assured I won't be mining for tears to fuel my life source for much longer. As for you Polandkiwi...I hope this prompt lives up to your expectations! Enjoy! :)**_

* * *

The thing about mortality that most knew, but few grasped until the end was near, was that it was always inevitable. Yes, it seems obvious to acknowledge that, as mortal beings, death was always going to be the endgame of any life cycle. Life begins, life provides, life passes on. It was a tragic reality that was subconsciously realized once the mind was capable of accepting it. But few are truly ready for when that time finally comes knocking, and even less are ready to begin the process.

For someone who had cheated death twice...Shepard was amused by the concept of death's inevitability. After all, his time had come and gone in times where anyone else would have rightfully passed from this world to the next, only for him to be yanked back at the last minute to rejoin the ranks of the living. Whether it be through a four billion credit resurrection process, or simply through sheer willpower, Shepard and the Grim Reaper seemed to have an understanding: he'll die when he's ready to do so.

Unfortunately for Shepard...this agreement didn't extend to anyone else. He was the sole beneficiary of this relationship. In a way, this made it a curse. Because while he got to live, others died, and weren't granted the second chances he had unwillingly bestowed upon him. People like Kaidan, Jenkins, Mordin, Jacob, Legion, Thane, Anderson...good people. Deserving people. None of them rose from the dead as he did...none of them had massively well-funded necromantic projects tossed at them. Just Shepard. And while this bothered him, he hadn't allowed such melancholic thoughts to linger for any length of time, fearing the existential crisis that would be waged should it be given further deliberation.

But now that choice was ripped from him. The full extent of the curse made itself known. It gave him a second chance...but it took no prisoners, and like he said, his relationship with Death was a one-way, exclusive deal. Not even those he loved were granted respite.

He was learning that today all too well.

Its not like he could complain. Both he and Tali had lived a full life. It had been over eighty years since the end of the Reaper War: since both of them had been blessed with youth. Tali just 25 years old, while Shepard, two years of his life stolen from him, had only aged a year since meeting Tali, and was therefore nearing 30 by the time the last Reaper fell. They found each other not long after, and only a few months of recuperation would pass before Shepard, still bound to a wheelchair, would ask for her hand in marriage. A proposal she accepted with delight. They were married the following week in the atrium of the hospital, all their friends there to bear witness.

They had been married for eighty years...and not a single moment of it felt wasted, of that he felt grateful. Through hardship and joy, the two made their life on Rannoch. Shepard building her house one he had finally recovered, which then became _their_ home. Adopting Urz, a varren they had scooped up from Tuchanka in 2185, as their pet. Tali dropped her position as Admiral (which had been made redundant anyway) and became a professor of technology at the University of Talana, and later helped found the University of El'Tivv in 2219. Shepard left the marines and became a construction worker, and was occasionally invited to the Citadel's Reaper War Museum to give lectures. But the biggest decision the two made was in 2192 when they both decided on children.

On this subject, they were harmonious: they wanted a child. However, when it came to a name, what species, boy or girl, and the method...this remained contentious, and many discussions, and sometimes arguments, were had. Eventually, they reached a compromise, and Tali, through in-vitro fertilization, bore their son: Benhm'Shepard.

Many more children would follow: a total of four more in fact, although two were adopted humans and the third and fourth adopted quarians. Only Benhm was ever carried by Tali to term.

Like their parents before them, each of the Shepard children would go on to accomplish great things. Benhm, being the eldest, joined the Rannochian Marine Corps when he was old enough, and later achieved the rank of Major. He was also a veteran of several tours into the Terminus Systems, and had earned the Avatar of Rannoch commendation for his efforts in helping trapped Virminian troops escape during the Virminian War for Independence.

Their other children (Marcus, Faith, Naena and Cel) were just as successful as well. Marcus became a construction worker, following in the footsteps of his father's late occupation, and Shepard had even presided over his apprenticeship. Faith had become an engineer, following her fascination with vehicles, and would get a job in vehicle manufacturing for the skycar giant Felix Dynamics. Naena would become a lawyer, and eventually even got involved in politics, rising to the station of senator in the High Senate, and eventually rising to become Mistress of the High Senate for four terms, a position that allowed her to help mediate and de-escalate the Crisis of 2266, when tensions between the Systems Alliance and the Yahg Chiefdoms had almost escalated into war. Her involvement in the Quarian Embassy Hostage Crisis the following year had also helped her career, allowing her to organize the successful release of nineteen quarian hostages at their embassy on Khar'Shan.

Cel made a few mistakes in his early life, and they were ones his parents had down their best to steer him away from. His early career as a mercenary ended with Liara sending her own agents to subdue and bring him back home, to which Tali and Shepard quickly set him straight. They had pinned it down to his more rebellious nature, but once he saw the folly of his ways, he joined the rest of the family as a high successful member, using his skills and knowledge of mercenary work to aid the Council Terminus Coalition in defeating the Red Sky, Brood Band, Trinity Sevenfold and Star Eagle PMCs during the Great Mercenary Wars of the early 2250s.

For this, Shepard had much to be grateful for. His family had been relatively free of tragedy, and despite his initial fears of his past life hurting his chances for a new life, he had enjoyed relative peace with his family. Old wounds were admittedly dragged back to the surface with the occasional visit from reporters and book writers wanting to know their stories. Shepard had eventually solved this problem by publishing his memoirs, which he had titled 'Lion of Elysium' at Tali's insistence. Following his example, Tali published her own memoirs in a book she titled 'The Alleyway'. Shepard had smiled, knowing the significance the title held to her.

The reporters stopped coming after that, although they still got the odd email asking for interviews, which he politely declined.

They had both lived full, happy lives. There was no reason to be dissatisfied with the journey that had led up to this point. Few married couples could boast such long marriages, and claim to have loved every minute of it. Even as their youthful energy was sapped from them, replaced by the gradual decline in body function that came with advanced age, they never failed to spend whatever time they could with one another. Time came and went...their children grew up, became independent, left, got married and started their own families...and still they held on. Each day became more precious. But neither of them spent anytime considering whatever was doomed to come.

And now the day of reckoning had arrived. And he still wasn't ready.

Neither of them had expected it. There was no warning signs. Tali had a clean bill of health, according to doctors, despite her immune system becoming more of a hindrance with her age. She had stopped wearing a suit on Rannoch many decades ago, but she still needed it, as all quarians did, when offworld. Still, she seemed as strong as ever. But one day...her body finally decided it had enough, and took a nosedive.

One day, as she was drinking the dextro coffee that she enjoyed so much and was joining him on the couch to watch television, she collapsed, her breathing was restricted. He had initially panicked and desperately called for a doctor, but by the time he arrived, Tali's condition had stabilized. However, her speech was stuttered and slow. He had suspected what happened before the doctor confirmed it: Tali had suffered a stroke. Shepard believed Tali would be fine given a few days...but when the doctor rung up a day later to confirm to them Tali's condition, all that hope was dashed.

This stroke would prove to be fatal. He gave Tali a single day to live. Just one.

Just...one.

It seemed impossible that his Tali, the quarian who, despite her age, could launch out of bed and descend to her workshop with all the haste of an impassioned worker could die so prematurely. She had seemed so strong, durable and unbreakable...like she could do anything, regardless of her body's accelerating limitations. If anything, due to the damage his body suffered during the Last Great War (an historical term that many historians now applied to the Reaper War), he would have thought he'd bite the bullet before her. After all, he had heard that quarians lived a lot longer on average than humans, despite having roughly the same biological lifespan of just over a century.

But through some small cruelty, Tali's time had come. And despite the eighty or so years he had with her...he wasn't ready. He wasn't ready to say goodbye. To accept that the rest of his days would be spent alone. He'd have his children and friends, of course...but only during visits. For all intents and purposes, he'd have the house to himself. A prospect he seldom looked forward to, and now that it was on the precipice of taking place, it filled him with a pit of unyielding dread.

With only one day to live, Tali wanted to see her family one last time...which included the surviving _Normandy_ crew. Unfortunately, with only one day to live, few could get to Rannoch on time, so their goodbyes were sent via extranet. Liara had reportedly wept, and having attended Kasumi's funeral some years ago, the young thief that Tali had called her best friend wasn't around to say goodbye. The only person on the crew who could attend was Garrus...and that was because he had been on his way to drop in and pay them visit when he received the news.

Obviously, their children got priority. One by one, they went upstairs into the bedroom to say their goodbyes. Benhm had stormed out soon after, tears dripping down his face, unable to look at anyone. His life had started in Tali's womb, so his connection to his mother, while no stronger than that of his siblings, was far more biologically rooted, and thus he felt the pain of her imminent passing far more devastatingly. The others came in short order, composing themselves far more effectively, but no less radiating sadness. Shepard, all the while, sat at the bar of his kitchen, already feeling the terrifying concept of loneliness hanging over his head like a dark cloud.

He didn't want Tali to go. Not now. Not ever. He would never be ready for her to leave, and that was perhaps the worst part. Knowing that he would eventually have to go upstairs, kiss his wife, and watch her fall asleep for the last time...watching her take her last breaths before one final exhale left her body. It was all too much for him to handle internally.

So he brooded. He didn't immediately dive into a bottle...no, that would be selfish. Tali would want him to be there for her, present in both mind and body, and it wouldn't do for him to be barely cognizant for her final moments. She wanted her husband to be there, and he would be.

No, the drinking could come after.

Tali was his polar opposite. She had accepted her fate serenely, and pointed out that she could have died a myriad of cruel, unfair ways...to die of a stroke was awful, but the lesser of the many evils, and her death would thankfully be quick and peaceful.

"Just like how Auntie Raan died," she had said, "Quickly, peacefully, and loved. A good way to die."

He wished he had her strength. Her positive outlook. She chose to celebrate her life and accept her fate, while he wallowed in the victories of her life and bitterly condemned Death's rush to claim her for his dominion. She had matured so much...he admired her courage in the face of what came for her. She was so strong. Brave, that was a word for it.

And yet he, the coward, had failed to come to terms with it. Tali was at peace. Shepard was still fighting it, even if the fight was lost from the start.

Mortality was simply a foe he couldn't defeat. It was _that_ simple.

Cel was still speaking with his mother upstairs, and the rest of his sons and daughters were in the living room, consoling each other. Naena was could be heard sobbing, while Marcus comforted her. Shepard supposed he should have been with them, but his own woes kept him tied to the bar, staring at the alcohol contained within with a need that was being continually held back. No matter how easy it would be to numb the pain with the liquor, he would not succumb to that kind of selfish thinking. Even in the midst of his terrible sorrow, he remained bastionized against his desires. The fortress that was his self-discipline had not deteriorated with the rest of him, thankfully.

There was a series of knocks on the door, each one hitting like a toll. He already had an inkling of who it would be, especially considering what little friends they still had alive planetside on Rannoch. And with all the children here, and Benhm having stormed off, there was only one person it could possibly be.

His movement was slow and unconvincing: almost zombie-esque in its gait. His cybernetics had given him an advantage over other elderly people of his age in that he could move more easily and less painfully, but that didn't mean his movement was perfect. Slight ticks existed that could be seen, such as a slight limp (a remnant of an injury he had incurred as a permanent scar of the Reaper War), a lethargic turning circle, and a superintendence with every step he took. He wasn't a man in his prime anymore and it showed. Both he and Tali had passed that point of no return many years ago.

Reaching the door, he quickly pulled it open with a single twist of the knob. When building the house, he had wanted to construct it with a more 21st century view in mind. While it would have all the security systems and facilities of a modern 23rd century home, the simplicity of a swinging door as opposed to an automatic door made all the difference in making this house seem truly like home.

As he expected, he was greeted by his turian friend upon opening it. Garrus immediately went in for a hug, Shepard returning it with the same brotherly slap to the back that they always did when meeting like this. After a moment, the turian pulled back, looking into his eyes, "I came as fast I could. How's Tali?"

He gulped, his eyes feeling raw despite having not shed a tear. His emotions were bottled up. A defensive mechanism that he had developed during his days as a commander, and had been unable to shed, despite Tali's best attempts to break through its programming, "She's...not in pain. That's what matters."

"Yes...yes, of course," Garrus replied, eyes looking solemn and bleak. Turians aged differently to humans, and due to their lifespan having an extra century over them, Garrus hadn't aged as much as Tali and Shepard had. He looked almost the same as he had eighty years ago when he was in his youth, but with slightly paler complexion and a more worn look.

Garrus understood how Shepard felt. He and Kasumi had grown close during the Reaper War, and eventually got married...so when she died, the turian had been left alone. A fate that Shepard too was about to share. But Tali was also one of his best friends...a member of the 'Old Guard' of the _Normandy_ squad. The original six. He loved Kasumi deeply...losing her was a blow to his mental state. He couldn't fathom what losing another friend was doing to him.

A minute passed as the two stood silently at the door before Shepard finally shook his head, clearing his thoughts as he stepped to the side and motioned into the house, "Oh, um...come inside, have a seat. Cel shouldn't be too much longer."

The turian nodded silent, his movement respectful as he slowly stepped inside, Shepard summarily closing the door and joining him outside the living room. Before he could reach him however, Naena had already jumped up from the crouch and embraced the turian, Garrus for his part taking a momentary pause of surprise before he returned the gesture,

"Uncle Garrus..." she sniffed, her tears still wet on her cheeks, "I'm glad you're here..."

He must have looked like a fool, simply standing there and staring at the two as they hugged. Mentally, he just had no idea what to say or do. The usual quips and banter he shared with his turian brother were entirely absent, leaving behind an awkward tension between them that had nothing but void to fill it. Nothing could be said that would alleviate the melancholy that seeped into their hearts, and no amount of bravado and chest-thumping would reverse the disaster that was fast approaching their family.

Even now, the mere acknowledgement of the idea of a future where Tali was absent seemed...alien to him. His mind refused to even consider it. The two had been practically joined at the hip for eighty years...a strong friendship giving way to love, and love turning into marriage. Leaving each other's side has been largely impossible for them, and whenever Shepard or Tali had to go offworld for one reason or another, you could bet their partner wasn't far behind. Not once had their love diminished in strength, nor fallen victim to the tropes that plagued other marriages. Divorce was taboo in quarian society...not that either of them even gave it any thought, or were required to.

For decades, he had convinced himself their love was eternal. He wasn't foolish enough to believe they were immortal, but that they would always be together...and when the time came, they would die together. But now she was in bed...mere hours left to live, probably less...and Shepard himself hadn't exhibited any signs of following her anytime soon. So for once he was facing a lonely future...and he had no idea what to do.

He had no plans. No contingencies. He had never given any thought to this, and now that the time arrived, he feared the sun rising tomorrow. They had always done everything together, but now he would wake up tomorrow to an empty bed and an empty house. A life of solitude. The end he had envisioned for them would never come to pass, and all he could feel was the empty pit in his stomach growing bigger and bigger as this realization set in: a sickness that just kept spreading, and for which a vaccine didn't come to pass.

Its not like being alone was a new concept for him. He hadn't been in many relationships in his early life, despite many girls chasing after him during his adolescent years. One woman, Roshia Phelps, had caught his attention when he was in the marines, but her death during the Battle of Elysium, and the fury that it unleashed within him (a fact many media outlets, when covering his 'heroic last stand', failed to cover) had led him away from further relationships, fearing a repeat of that same loss. He had known isolation since then...and gotten used to it. He never let people get _that_ close...fearing a repeat of Roshia's fate.

But then he met Tali. His feelings for her grew, but he ignored them. The mission came first, and he wouldn't do that to himself again: her being trapped in a suit only helped to convince him it was impossible. But then he died...and when you've successsfully come back from the dead, all your past regrets come back to bite you, with the only difference being you have a chance to make them right. He knew he loved Tali from the moment he ran into her again, and when he finally gained the courage to tell her...it was the best day of his life since being with Roshia a week before the attack on Elysium.

There was something different about Tali, he convinced himself. And despite the fear he would lose her too...they stuck through it. They survived the Collector Base _and_ London, but most importantly, they did it _together._ Slowly, his fear of losing her evaporated, until eventually the war was over and the fear was gone entirely. They resolved to step back from war entirely, and their new lives enjoyed peace, personal prosperity and a happiness he deemed himself lucky to even enjoy.

But now he was going through it all over again. Losing the person he loved. Perhaps more frustrating was that unlike Roshia, there was nothing he could do. At least with her death he could fathom millions of scenarios where he could have saved her from taking that piece of shrapnel to the throat...pushed her out of the way, taken the hit himself, gotten her to a medic in time...perhaps not even being in that place at all. But with Tali...the advancement of science wasn't great enough to overcome a sentient being's greatest enemy: age.

Death by natural causes was inevitable. Even the Leviathans, as nigh immortal as they are, would eventually die. Old age was a terminus none could escape, and while he had cheated death before, he could not cheat his way past old age. This was Tali's time, and he could do nothing to stop or halt its progress.

All he could do was watch...and despair at the unfairness of it all.

"John," a voice called out to him through his lamentations, and he turned to the source, finding Garrus, arm on his shoulder, moving him towards a seat, "You should sit. You look like you need it more than I do."

The turian wasn't wrong. Shepard had been on the precipice of falling over, having been that lost and zoned out in his thoughts, and Garrus' actions had been all that stopped him from falling to his knees. Naena had returned to the living room, her brothers and sisters helping to distract her from the events of the day by celebrating Tali's life, exchanging childhood memories and funny moments. And when those ran out...they would talk about their own lives, careers and aspirations. Anything to distract from the current predicament.

Sitting down, he watched out of his peripheral vision as Garrus pulled up a seat and sat next to him, hands clasped ontop of the bench as the two sat in edgy silence, the two exchanging feelings through sheer presence alone.

"You're..." the turian finally spoke up, although Shepard didn't even turn to acknowledge him, simply hanging his head quietly and listening, "You're never quite ready for it...are you? Never really ready for your turn to come. I know...I know I felt that way when 'Sumi passed."

This time he reached up a hand and grasped the turian's shoulder, offering him some sympathy in that moment. His wife's death still hit Garrus hard, even after all this time, and it was clear he had, and would never, recover from the impact her passing had on him.

Garrus eyed his hand appreciatively, but did little more to show he welcomed the comfort, "My point...my point is that you've got a chance with Tali. To...make amends. Say goodbye. I didn't get that chance with 'Sumi. She was fine one minute, eating her ramen, then gone the next. I never got to say goodbye. We do. _You_ do."

He nodded understandingly, but otherwise said nothing. Garrus understood why and didn't push the issue.

Garrus was, of course, absolutely correct. By the time Tali and Shepard, and everyone else, received word of Kasumi's death, she had already been long gone. Kasumi had died within seconds, and without aforementioned warning. Garrus had commented that he was glad she at least died painlessly, but it had done little to lessen the blow on his mind. Tali had stayed by Kasumi's grave long after the funeral, spending hours there...simply talking to her. She never told Shepard what was discussed with her deceased friend...but he had little doubt of the overall theme of it.

Tali had refused to allow death to get in the way of her saying goodbye. Would he allow fear of seeing her moments from her passing to get in the way of his? That was truly the ultimate question he needed to answer, and he would have to answer it soon, because her time was growing ever short. And he refused to talk to a tombstone when his wife, living and breathing, was just upstairs, waiting for him.

He was afraid. Scared of confronting the uneviable truth, and terrified of being there when the time arrived. But for his wife...he would overcome that fear. He wouldn't be ruled by it, and he never had. She needed him...wanted to see his face and hear his voice as her eyes closed forever. He wouldn't deny her that: that would be selfish. And in truth, he wanted to be there...to do the same. He just didn't want to admit that loneliness scared him the most. He was old, with very little else to do in his life, and to have to spend the rest of it by himself was a fearsome, undesirable prospect.

 _I should be in that room, dying with her. We were supposed to go together..._

Maybe he was truly naive in thinking the galaxy worked that way. Or mayhaps it was hope that gave way to this illusion of how his life would end. That he wouldn't have to press forward alone once again, life coming full circle in its irony. In all honesty, his will to live had probably been what gave way to this very false notion. That somehow his ability to cheat death would extend to the people he cared about, his wife included. And now he paid the price for this delusional mindset.

 _Not like she was taken from me too soon...we lived a good life. Eighty years...few can boast to have that much time with a loved one! But to have it end at all...more time is never enough. No matter how much more you get, you'll always want more, and eventually nature gets sick and tired of the delays._

The sound of a door opening and closing could be heard from upstairs, and Shepard checked his chronometer. An hour and a half had passed since Cel went up to speak to his mother one last time, and he couldn't blame his son for taking as much time as he could. In fact, Shepard planned on staying with her until the end. The only reason he wasn't already was because of his own doubts about composing himself for her sake, and because he wanted to give his children time to have one last one-on-one with their mother.

Steps down the stairs turned into a physical presence as Cel rounded the corner of the room, his red facemask and matching crimson veil almost blending into the persimmon walls, but also managing to starkly stand out from its background coloration. His slumped shoulders and sluggard pace were essentially identical to the same postures each of his other children had shared when they came back down. Like the conversation they had, and the fact it truly was the last they'd have with Tali, was only now beginning to weigh down on them. It only made Shepard all the more despondent.

Cel, however, turned to Shepard almost immediately upon arriving, walking over to where he sat at the bar, his voice low and haunted, "Dad, mum wants you upstairs. She...wants to talk to you."

He swallowed, but didn't respond straight away. Words were a resource he was running short on, and all he could muster in these few short hours to requests and questions was to offer nods and shakes of the head. He patted his son on the shoulder, moving in to hug him before the two parted and he made his way towards the stairs, terrified of what he'd find within that bedroom. Garrus stayed quiet and remained where he was, simply watching as his friend, quiet and already succumbing to melancholia, ascended to where his wife and bondmate was dying.

Once at the top, he stopped just short of the door, his hand reaching down to grasp the door knob, but not yet twisting it open. He felt his breath hitching in his throat, and a world of stress seemed to press down around him, squeezing the air from his lungs and making the room seem like it was oxygenless. He gave strong consideration to simply not opening the door at all, but he drew upon what cognitive reserves he had left, pushing aside the asphyxiation in his head and pushing the door open, feet moving him past the threshold of no return.

He didn't really know what he was expecting to see when he walked inside. The cold pit of spreading trepidation his mind and heart had caused him to dream up all sorts of horrors. When someone you deeply loved was dying, it was easy for the mind to torture you with an innumerable amount of grotesque abominations being inflicted upon them, luring you further into the never-ending abyss of misery.

But he didn't find a woman groaning in constant pain. He didn't find his wife muttering to herself, slowly being driven insane. She wasn't crying his name or the name of other loved ones who weren't there. She wasn't covered in visible injuries or lesions. No...in fact, she looked entirely unmaimed. She lay in bed, covers up to her collarbone and covering her upper torso, head gently laid upon a large pillow. Her black hair, largely streaked with purplish blue (the quarian equivalent of grey hair) wasn't messed up, and she wasn't moaning, calling out names or even muttering a single sound...she was entirely quiet, almost unmoving.

But when he entered the room, she did move. Her head shifted on the pillow, turning to look at him, and god...she smiled. He bit back an urge to cry, right then and there.

 _She looks...at peace. Like she doesn't have a worry in the world..._

In actuality, that was probably more horrifying to him than the nightmares his sick subconscious had conjured. To know his wife had accepted what was coming...was even ready for it...

"John..." she croaked, her speech still carrying the lethargic pace to it that the stroke had scarred her with, "Come over here...don't stand so far away..."

There was a plea in her tone that he couldn't ignore. It broke his heart, and he knew his hesitation was a mistake there and then. It was clear Tali craved his presence, and here he was standing in the doorway looking at her with a glazed look of terror. If she knew that she was the source of that very terror...he was just glad that she didn't.

But despite his inceptive reluctance, he quickly broke free of the chains of his doubts and stepped forward to be with her, taking her outstretched hand and sitting down next to her on their bed. The way she moved showed she wasn't suffering any agony or any lingering side effects of her stroke. Really, there was no way to tell she was dying at all, if it wasn't for knowing already. That was the most insidious part of it, really.

"I'm here, Tali," he whispered, reaching down to stroke the back of her hair, his hand moving through her hair soothingly.

"Are..." she gulped, and knowing what she wanted, he turned to her bedside table, picked up the half-drunk glass of water there, and gave it to her, the quarian gulping it down needily. When she was done, she returned it to him, who put it back on the table without even turning away from her. Her thirst eliminated, she continued what she wanted to say, "Are you okay?"

He almost laughed. Tali's selflessness never ceased for an instant, not even when she was dying. He simply shrugged in response to her question.

"Come on," she urged, squeezing his hand, "The kids aren't here. Its just you and me."

He nodded, understanding what she meant. He should have known better than to try and bullshit his wife, even when her mind was elsewhere. She had known him long enough to master the knowledge of his mannerisms, and his expression told her everything she wanted to know about his mental state. She saw the fear in his eyes for real now, and now that they were alone, he was free to let the floodgates release.

So he did. He exhaled through his nose, leaning forward so that they were closer, still feeling the need to whisper despite their confinement from the rest of the house, almost like he was worried somebody was at the door, listening in, "I'm...I'm afraid. I can't...can't do this, Tali. I've lost people. Friends, family. But...I can't lose you. Not after...everything else we've lost."

Tali's smile wavered but for a moment, free hand reaching up to hold his cheek gingerly, her touch ever so soft despite the wrinkling that had ruined the soft, smooth complexion of her skin, "Then stop fighting it, _neh'sah_."

Still too deep in the throes of his sorrow, he didn't fully comprehend what she had said until he looked back at her, a frown donning his expression, "W-what?"

Her smile didn't diminish, and she sighed, "You've been fighting all your life to stay alive. To keep fighting for those you love, and for the galaxy. You've been resurrected once, and you've come back from the gates of death once. You've always continue fighting regardless of what was thrown at you. You told me this was because you wanted to make the galaxy a better place, but that you later found another reason to keep living..."

He sniffed, rubbing his eyes, "You..."

"Yes," she wistfully muttered, bringing his head down to hers so she could gently kiss him on the forehead, before allowing him to pull back, "Then we had children...and you lived for them. But now my time has come, and I'm telling you...you can rest now. My fight is over, and I've accepted my fate. All you need to do is accept yours."

He knew what she was asking, and he perhaps understood what she said more than he liked to admit. He considered his actions up until this day...and how hard he had fought to make a better life for themselves. To defeat the Reapers, keep Tali and his friends alive, build them a home, create a family, keep a sustainable job, get their kids a future of their own...they had succeeded at it all. And now that they had time to rest, their fight truly was done. There was no reason to keep fighting the inevitable.

His will to live...it was no longer necessary. They had lived long, fought hard, and earned the fruits of their labor with pride. But like all people must eventually face, their time was near...and Tali had chosen to stop fighting it. And now she was urging him to do the same.

"But the kids..." he argued, his mind coming up with last-ditch reasons to defy his wife's logic, despite his heart wanting to just give in, "They need me...they can't lose us both."

She shook her head, "Our children are not children anymore. They're strong, and they have their own lives now. And when it comes down to it, they will lose us both eventually...its just a matter of when and how."

She was right, but he was still finding it difficult to accept. He had lived a life where he adamantly refused to fully submit to what _he_ wanted. He had wanted to tell Tali how he felt back during the Saren days, but he had refused because he knew it wouldn't be right, even if he did eventually give into that desire. He hadn't forced Tali to join his crew on Freedom's Progress because he knew it would be selfish, despite desperately wanting her to be with him. He had wanted Tali to live...but there had been times where he had been forced to choose the tactically sound decision in battles that may have put her life in jeopardy, because the mission, and by extension all life in the galaxy, depended on it.

He had fought desire all his life. When he finally gave into it, he gorged himself on it. Marrying Tali. Retiring. Having a family. It was a future he could never have possibly dreamed of, and he loved every second of it. But even now, with Tali offering him the option of joining her in death...he found it tempting, but still didn't leap on the opportunity.

Tali and Shepard could have died many times over, but they refused to die. It was a trait the Shepard family had developed as something of a running theme. Even death had been a mere obstacle to Shepard returning to his friends and loved ones, and a giant space station falling down ontop of him? Nothing but a limp resulted from it. They should have died one hundred times over...but they kept fighting.

And that's why Tali was here, right now...dying. She had finally laid down her sword. And she only asked him to do the same.

But although he considered rejecting her proposal, he found his thoughts falling to what came next. When Tali died...what next? He knew what awaited him after her funeral...solitude. A big house with no one to share it with, and sporadic visits by friends and his children at best. Memories of her existence, such as photos and trinkets, would be left behind to constantly remind him of the piece of his soul that had been permanently lost. He would spend the rest of his life, whatever remained of it, simply waiting for the end to arrive so he could be with her again.

So...what would be the point in continuing to fight it? All he would be doing is waiting for his chance to be reunited with her after death...a pointless existence. An agonizing one.

And, in the end, that was ultimately what led to his decision.

"Okay," he stated simply, accepting of what came next.

Tali smiled, and she parted the covers, beckoning for him to join her.

So he did. Standing up, he slipped under the blanket where he then lay his head down, feeling the warmth of his wife's body as she scooted closer to him, hand on his chest and head resting just under his neck. He sighed, kissing the top of her head as silence filled the room. As he mentally accepted that he had given into his providence, his body began to catch up. He felt himself relaxing, and as minutes turned into hours, his eyes began to feel droopy, his breathing slowing down in tandem to Tali's. He knew what this heralded. He didn't fight it any longer.

No words were spoken between them again: their comforting presence was enough. The fear of loneliness filling his heart was evaporated as he looked forward to being reunited with Tali in whatever came next, and as he did this, their breathing continued to slow and they continued to grow sleepy.

Eventually, their eyes closed, and minutes later, their breathing stopped altogether.

And as footsteps ascended towards the room, history remembered this moment as the one that truly brought an end to a legacy, and brought about the end of an era.

Moments later, as if the person coming to investigate had been summoned in a vein effort to stop what had already transpired, the door to the bedroom opened as a lone figure stepped inside, eyes falling upon the two figures still wrapped in a loose, but close embrace. Not initially grasping the full significance of what this meant, the figure approached and sat down next to them, hand hesitantly reaching up to shake Shepard, worried at the lack of reaction they would get.

Their fears were confirmed. Shepard didn't move. And when the figure checked for a pulse...he was saddened, but not surprised, in their failure to find one.

The figure didn't move for a few seconds, but when he finally did, he reached up and grasped his deceased friend's shoulder, a low keen building up in his throat: a turian mourning cry.

"And I still didn't get to say goodbye," Garrus silently noted.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_

 _ **Okay, so it wasn't so much a dark prompt as it was a sad one, but it sorta counts because its not fluff by any means. Still, I hope you liked this Polandkiwi. It wasn't really hard to write, I'll admit. However, this prompt marks the end for dark/sad prompts in Flashpoint, because the remaining four prompts are all fluffy in nature, or simply don't tackle dark themes like this one, Bitter Memoriam, and others.**_

 _ **EQC Chapter 14 is up next! Unfortunately, its another slow-burn chapter, but don't worry, the gap is closing! Plus, the chapter delves more deeply into one of the Exaltation squad's members, and has another Tali POV, so not much to complain about there, eh? You guys have reacted quite positively to the Exaltation squad, and have expressed an interest in learning more about them, so this chapter will do just that!**_

 _ **Until then,**_

 _ **Keelah se'lai, troopers!**_


	24. Snapshot 23: That Day In The Airlock

_**This prompt was requested by atomicsub927. I really like this idea, and I've been thinking of a way to tackle it for ages, and now you'll get to read the final result of that self-deliberation! Do enjoy, and please let me know what you think of it! That goes for everyone!**_

* * *

"I'm not really sure why you're watching me do this, Shepard. I don't need a supervisor."

"I have very little to do, and I figured I'd help. Plus, it gives me an excuse to talk to you. Veritable archive of information that you are."

"I'm flattered that I'm the first person you turned to."

"Oh, I went to Garrus first. Then Mordin. Then Grunt. Then Jack. Then Joker. Then-"

"Bosh'tet."

He laughed, and he knew Tali was giggling lightly to herself underneath that mask too.

In all seriousness, he wasn't lying when he said he had basically nothing to do. Whenever he wasn't participating in ground deployments and leading his squad, he was usually wrapped up in writing post action reports for command to look over and evaluate the overall success of his mission. And when he wasn't doing that, he was doing the rounds of the crew, eating, exercising, or sleeping. Most of the time, he had so much to do that he found very little time to be bored.

But that had all changed with their recent departure from Cerberus. The destruction of the Collector Base had eliminated the Collectors as a threat, and the geth heretics had been rewritten to join the rest of the Orthodox geth, which they had discovered recently were closer to allies than an enemies. No enemies to fight meant very little combat deployment. And his decision to have the Base destroyed had earned him the ire of the Illusive Man, their last conversation an indication of where their relationship was headed. The two came to heads, and with their stances set in stone, Shepard severed his remaining ties with Cerberus.

So now the _Normandy_ answered to no one. It wasn't an Alliance ship, and Cerberus had declared them _persona non grata_. The command chain effectively ended with Shepard at the top, and he couldn't write reports to himself...so that meant no reports, and no enemies meant no missions. All he really had was exercising, eating and sleeping after that. It was the day shift, so he couldn't sleep. He already eaten, and he had already exercised. So that left him with nothing to do but do the rounds of the ship...which he had also already done.

And thus here he now was, with his favourite quarian. Watching her...well, he wasn't actually sure _what_ she was doing, if he was honest. He had come down to engineering to talk with her, but when he saw she wasn't there, Gabby had been quick to tell him that Tali had simply said she was going to fix some fault in the main airlock. She mentioned something about hydraulics, and various other technical terms that had gone way over his head. Paying little attention to it, he had simply gone up to the CIC and stepped into the airlock with the quarian engineer, and now he was sitting down beside her, helping pass over tools whenever she called out for one. Tali herself was crouched beside an open panel, performing an array of actions whose importance was lost on him, and which he hadn't even bothered to ask for clarity on.

The _Normandy_ was currently hanging out in the Boltzmann system for the time being, staying away from any planets and therefore beneath the notice of Cerberus. Their severance from the organization hadn't been friendly or amenable, and the fact Shepard had basically taken an extremely expensive warship, crew, AI and technology that Cerberus had invested billions into developing...it was no surprise the Illusive Man wanted it back. They had been ambushed by a Cerberus frigate upon return from the Omega 4 Relay, although Shepard doubted the Illusive Man approved the boarding action that came after they had disabled the damaged _Normandy_. He wasn't stupid: he knew the effectiveness of Shepard's team, and what they had just accomplished.

No, either the Illusive Man believed the crew was still recovering from injuries that rendered them ineffective, or the ship's captain thought he could make a name for himself by being the one who captured the _Normandy_ and killed Commander Shepard or took him prisoner. Whatever the case, their attack failed. The boarding team was killed, the enemy frigate was destroyed, and the _Normandy_ was now in hiding until a safe harbour to make repairs could be found. So, for now, the Illusive Man would have to fume in his seat and smoke a few more cigars. Somehow, the image of that was enough to make Shepard laugh like a maniacal villain in his head.

 _Let him stew. Asshole needs to know that I'm in this for destroying the Reapers and saving the galaxy, not establishing human supremacy using the Reaper defeat as a foundational block. Our alliance was useful while it lasted, but not it's clear our methods are too far apart to coexist. If he wants his ship and crew back, he can try and take it back. He already made his move and he failed._

However, being in hiding only further substracted from his list of things to do. So much so that sitting in an airlock and talking to Tali while she _did_ have things to do was far more interesting.

After a moment of silence between them, he cleared his throat, grinning self-confidently as he crossed his arms, craning his head towards her. From where he sat, he was given a perfect view of Tali's form, her back turned to him and crouched over enough that her hindquarters weren't exactly modestly concealed. He allowed his eyes to feast on the view, especially given the recent change in their relationship, "So Tali...how are you feeling?"

The quarian sighed, shaking her head. Her hand reached out, beckoning for him to pass something. Already knowing what she wanted, as she had told him she would need it in a few minute, he swiped it from her tool bag and handed it to her, placing it in her outstretched hand. She retracted it, said hand diving back into the open panel as the tool she requested (somekind of welding tool) was put to use. She dryly replied in the mean time, "I'm developing a nasty cough, quite the pounding headache and my sinuses are filled with something I can't even describe. I feel horrible."

He could definitely hear it in her voice. It sounded nasally and laboured, the very effort of simply talking being a burden that sapped her of energy. All obvious, outward symptoms of someone afflicted with fever. Suddenly he didn't feel so smug, and his smile turned into a concerned frown, hand reaching out tentatively to grasp her shoulder, "Shit...I shouldn't have joked about that. Are you sure you'll be fine?"

Tali just laughed, patting his hand reassuringly, "Hey, _you_ asked. What I've got is exactly what I expected would happen: it's nothing surprising. Besides..." her tone took on a husky quality in that moment, and as she turned to him, her eyes met his directly, and he could see the intensity in them even behind the mask, especially now that he could properly picture it in his mind, having seen her face, "...it was _totally_ worth it."

Well, any preconceptions of how the quarian felt after that night before their assault on the Collector Base had been thoroughly washed away with that comment. The conviction that existed withn Tali's statement, plus the fond tone in which she seemed to say it, made it all too clear to him where she stood in regards to that encounter. All it did was make him grin, then chuckle.

"Glad you had fun then. I know _I_ certainly did."

"It was more than just fun to me, Shepard," she admitted, returning to her work after a moment, "That...night. It was...important to me. I know you understand that."

His tone became serious, his smile degrading to become a ghost of its former mirth, "Tali, of course I do. It was important to me too. Obviously not for the same reasons, but it was important nonetheless. And believe me, after that night, I'm fully committed to making this work. You were incredible."

"Oh...um..." that declaration clearly took her by surprise, and a loud bang could be heard for a second as the quarian dropped her tool inside the panel. Cursing underneath her breath, she reached further inside to retrieve it, her embarassment visible even with her suit on. Once she had returned to work, she nodded, almost like she was answering a question she had poised to herself, "You, uh...so were you."

With Tali's face no doubt hotter than a nuclear reactor at this point, her embarassment palpable enough, he decided to drop the issue, laughing inwardly at the absurdity of it all. Tali was like two people at times: one moment she was self-deprecating and unsure of herself, the next she was taking control and entirely confident in her abilities. It was a dichotomy that he always found equal parts adorable and commendable. It was clear to him she was a strong and capable young woman, and in battle or armed with an omni-tool, she was as professional as they came. But when it came to addressing her feelings and issues of the heart...she crumbled and melted away. Absolutely hopeless.

They were more alike than they could possibly fathom. However, for all of Tali's awkwardness and uncertainty when it came to this issue...on that night, from the moment he told her he found her beautiful, the two threw their mutual hesitance to the wind and let their passion run wild. After all, they were likely going to die the next day...so what was the harm in giving into what they both wanted?

Only they had both survived, and now they had time to think about the course of their relationship. They ultimately chose to give it a shot. They both made the other happy, and he would be lying if the idea of not being with her irked him quite a bit. So days after the fact, the two announced their relationship to the crew, and it had gone on from there. They had few opportunities to talk due to their workload in the immediate aftermath of their supposed suicide mission, and while they hadn't made love since then that first night, they more than made up for it in presence alone. Tali had practically moved into his cabin at this point.

So the fact Tali was still acting awkwardly around him was amusing to say the least.

"You don't have to be embarassed, Tali," he urged her, shrugging his shoulders, "I know you enjoyed it. Nothing wrong with that. Although I really had no idea quarians could be so flexible..."

"Keelah..." she shook her head, waving a hand at him as she turned and glared at him, "Do we really need to talk about this right now? I'm trying to work."

"Too distracting?"

"Yes. Especially when I just want to pounce you again."

He certainly hadn't expected that response. It was laced with a blatant lust and confidence that the quarian had barely exhibited in this conversation up until now. It contrasted quite starkly to the shy demeanour she had displayed so subliminally just moments before. He blinked, opening his mouth to respond, before simply cocking his head at her, eyebrow elevated, "So blunt, Miss vas Normandy."

She shrugged, laughing nervously to herself, "I guess you're beginning to rub off on me. This is what I get for falling for a primate."

"Now that's a low blow, Tali," he held his chest mockingly, feigning offense at her comment as a low chuckle echoed from his throat, smiling from ear to ear. In all honesty, he enjoyed seeing Tali's confidence spike as she got more comfortable with the idea of being in a relationship with him. It was more than a little endearing, "Besides...weren't your people technically felines before you evolved?"

"If you're insinuating I'm a cat, don't bother," the quarian refuted.

"You just called me a monkey!" he replied in kind, voice jokingly boisterous.

"I'm not going to hold it against you," Tali shot back sharply, unable to hide her amusement as her stifled giggling could be heard quite distinctly from her work area, "We don't get to choose our species."

He rolled his eyes, arms still crossed, "Oh thank you for your clemency, Miss vas Whiskers."

"Not a cat."

"Just wait until I remind Kasumi that quarians used to 'meow' and run around on all fours," he drawled, looking throughly happy with himself, "She'll never leave you alone."

"You do that and this 'cat' will revoke your suit-linking privileges."

"You wouldn't dare!" he faux-gasped.

"Before all the Ancestors, I swear I would, bosh'tet."

"Whatever you say," he huffed, shaking his head defeatingly, before adding under his breath, head pivoted away from her, "Didn't know you could be so bossy..."

"You've been humbled, now be quiet," she hushed, her auditory emulators obviously having picked up what he said, in spite of his best attempts to hide it from her, "This 'cat' has work to do, and you're being _very_ distracting."

"My lips are sealed," he dryly commented with a smile, before going quiet as promised. The quarian simply returned to her work in silence, the sound of cables and other assorted mechanisms being moved about becoming the only relief to the dull pause that hung over the room as Tali worked.

It didn't last very long though, as Tali quickly spoke up again, "You know I was joking about being quiet, right?"

He shrugged, feigning ignorance, "Whatever do you mean, Tali? You made it very clear...I'm very distracting."

The quarian rolled her eyes, partially pulling herself out from the panel she was working inside to address him, "Don't be coy with me, Shepard. You know what I meant."

He could only grin, turning to look back at her, "That I did. And the feeling is definitely mutual."

She laughed at that, shaking her head exasperatingly. After a moment however, her amusement toned down, once again rifting from her jovial and mirthful demeanour and sailing into solemn, speculative territory. She sat up, hands in her lap, head hanging low. He suddenly felt concerned for the quarian woman, but before he could ask if she was alright, she looked back up at him, armed with a question, "Shepard, did...did you mean what you said? About...being incredible? You didn't just say that to make me feel better, did you?"

He frowned at that, noting the shred of fear that was hinted at in her voice. Her confident and enlivened attitude had dissolved to be replaced with some amount of trepidation and nebulous reticence. She needed an answer to this question, that much was clear.

So he wouldn't keep her waiting, "You're damn right I did. Tali, I haven't felt that way with a woman for a long time. What we did...I wouldn't have allowed anyone else to get that close. You know I rejected Liara before Ilos, don't you?"

That caused her to cock her head in surprise, "No, I didn't. Liara came to you?"

"Yes," he nodded, remembering the night quite well. He had been sitting at his desk, staring at a wall and pondering what was about to happen. He had very little to do that night as well, and no reports to write...because the very people he reported to had been the ones he had now committed treason against in order to stop Saren. He had been afraid and alone, and when Liara came to him, he had been very tempted to accept the warmth and comfort she offered him. A mutual exchange of stress relief. For both of them to get lost in a night of pleasure, to leave the overbearing burden of saving an entire galaxy from an armageddon they couldn't see coming behind and simply be lost in happiness for a few short hours. But he had rejected her, "We had already established we didn't have feelings for each other. She wasn't looking for a relationship. She was lonely and afraid, and so was I. In all fairness to her, she thought our mutual problems could be resolved with a single night of...closeness. She was upfront about what she wanted."

"So...so why did...?" the quarian trailed off, worried about the answer, despite not needing to be.

"Why did I send her away instead of taking the opportunity to be happy?" he finished for her, shaking his head phlegmatically. Tali nodded, and he continued, "Simple. I'm a military man. Not the casual sort, but the career type...the ones that never let anyone get close, or enjoy very short marriages. I never had time for...for lack of a better term, romance. I've only had one girlfriend during my time in the service, and her death on Elysium reinforced my belief that it was a waste of time. That anyone I loved would die eventually...and that they'd hinder my duty. Love is the death of duty, goes the saying. So I tried not to get too involved. It worked pretty well...and despite how much my body wanted to say yes to Liara's proposal, I said no. There was...also another reason."

"What?" the quarian queried immediately, desperate for a determinate answer.

He looked at her and smiled warmly, "There was someone else on my mind. Someone who I had already convinced myself I could never be with, yet who I couldn't get out of my head. Like I said Tali, there's essentially no one I've met who I've let get as close as you. That's because you broke that mindset. You're the first person I've let get close, and I don't regret it. So if you're worried I'm just trying to let you down gently Tali, don't worry. I enjoyed every second of that night, and if you're still interested, I can't wait to see where this relationship takes us."

"When you put it that way..." Tali began, hand raising from her lap to rub at the bottom of her mask: a human mannerism she had picked up from him. He found it cute, and his smile only widened at seeing her do it. Then she sighed, shaking her head, "I'm such an idiot...I didn't mean to question your feelings for-"

"Don't worry about it, Tali. Believe me, we're both new to this. Well, relatively new in my case," he held up a hand placatingly, "But I'm certainly not afraid to see where we go next. Shit, now that we've both survived a suicide mission, I think we should go on a proper date soon."

"I'd...I'd like that. A lot," she admitted, head bobbing up and down rapidly, "Keelah, I have to tell Auntie Raan and Uncle Gerrel about us eventually too. I'm _not_ looking forward to that."

"Believe me, the feeling is mutual on that too," he rolled his eyes, cringing inwardly at the thought of family meetings, "Be prepared for meeting my mum. She can go from ship's captain to SIA interrogator when it comes to the women I've dated in the past. You'll be no different."

Tali just groaned, returning to her work, "Perhaps I'm dating the wrong man."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Tali."

"Anytime, Shepard."

His smile wavered for a second, before returning in full force, his arms becoming uncrossed as they raised to hang off the tops of his raised knees, "You know Tali, now that we're together, you can use my first name when it's just us. Calling me Shepard is just for formality."

"I..." she wavered, not knowing what to say to his comment initially, "That's...really? I've never really...everybody just calls you Shepard. We've known you for so long that just using your last name seems informal enough."

"You're special though," he argued, "Captain's girlfriend gets special name drop rights. It's the law."

"I'll think about it," she promised, "I don't think I've ever asked what your first name is?"

"Jonathan," he answered, rubbing his chin, feeling the bristles of his stubble itch with the contact, "Most shorten it to 'John'. So you can just call me that if you like."

"John...hmmm..." Tali blurted the word, her tone sounding as if she was testing its usage and how it sounded coming from her mouth, "Well...John...I'll think about-BOSH'TET!"

The last word came out in alarm, causing his head to snap towards her in shock, his behaviour immediately switched out for an alert and situation-ready stance. His N7 training had drilled this into him harder than most, allowing him to switch from a casual, carefree attitude one moment to a combat stance the next, ready to kill whatever came at him. Tali's tone indicated that she had not meant her catchphrase playfully, and he made sure his concurrent standpoint reflected this. He shot up from where he sat, coming to crouch right beside his quarian engineer, "Tali, what's wrong? Are you alright!?"

"Damn it!" the quarian pulled herself out from the panel she had been in, coughing and spluttering. Confusion wracked him for a moment until he saw the plume of smoke erupting from the open fascia, a low glow emanating from inside. She made sure to put some distance between herself and the panel as soon as possible before she responded, to her boyfriend's desperate call for a sitrep, "I'm fine! But the panel isn't! Bosh'tet, the ship must have been more damaged than we thought! I should have checked before I started moving things! Stupid idiot!"

"Well give me a sitrep!" his tone became more authoritative as his Commander Shepard persona switched into action, done so as quickly as one flipping a light switch.

"In trying to remove a damaged cable I failed to notice the cable just behind it had been severely torn," the quarian reported, quickly standing up so they could be eye level, "My welder must have overstressed the cable's lining, causing it to spark. There's an electrical fire in there now, and I don't know how fast its going to spread. We need to get out of here and have EDI assess the damage!"

"That may not be possible, Tali."

Shepard and Tali, simultaneously, looked up to address EDI's voice as it came over the PA, their faces twisted in confusion. They both spoke at once, which might have been comical in any other situation, "Why not!?"

The AI's response was measured and factual, as was always the case when EDI spoke, "My attempts to open the secondary airlock door per emergency protocol have failed. I have determined the source of the issue to be linked to the very panel that is currently damaged. The electrical fire has rendered the door inoperable."

Upon hearing this, Shepard and Tali both turned towards the door in question, and indeed found it lacking a haptic interface for them to open with. Even with his cybernetics, Shepard knew it would be a futile effort to try and pry it open with his bare hands, and thus quickly deduced it would be a waste of time. He walked over to the door, speaking to EDI as he did, "EDI, do we have the equipment onboard to open this door?"

"Unfortunately, we do not. Doors of this design are far too large and airtight to be pried open, and would require stronger than that of even a geth platform to be forced open. These doors are designed with a failsafe that automatically opens the doors in the event of a loss of a power. However, the detection of a fire and subsequent damage to systems within the airlock have caused the system to assume dangerous contaminants are within the chamber, and thus causing the failsafe system to be disengaged."

 _Great. What a self-contradictory system. We have a failsafe to automatically open the door if there's a loss of power, but if there's dangerous material inside, then it won't open...even if there are people inside. What a great choice._

"Shepard, we can't stay here," Tali urged him, making her way over to where he stood at the door, pointing at the open panel that was now spewing out smoke at an increasingly alarming rate, "CO2 levels in this airlock are going to get high very soon. My mask is designed to purify air, not filter out C02. And you don't have any protection _at all_."

 _So soon we're going to choke and die from smoke inhalation. This situation just went from 1 to 50 real fucking fast._ He thought over Tali's statement, and as he did, the faint twinge of heavy smoke reached his nostrils, already tickling the back of his throat and irritating to the point that he wanted to cough. Even the air around him seemed to become more warped and disfigured, visibility becoming poorer and poorer. Comically late, the fire alarm went off, but with the fire's source out of reach of the fire suppression system, it was obvious EDI hadn't seen fit to activate. His eyes began to water, stinging from the harsh sting of the choking black cloud that was rapidly filling the airlock.

Finally, he looked back up to address the AI, unable to think of any other options, "Well, we can't stay in here EDI. If it keeps going at this rate, we'll asphyxiate in the next few minutes. Plus, we need to deal with this electrical fire. Any suggestions?"

"Only one, and it will resolve both issues simultaneously," the AI declared surprisingly fast. He had to remind himself sometimes that she was an AI, and that she processed decisions at a normal rate within her mind, but what seemed like a microsecond to organics, "However, I do not think you will like it."

"Anything is better than dying in here!" Tali emphasized, coughing a little inside her mask. The urgency in her voice didn't help to soothe the situation, but it was clear that right now both of them weren't inclined to stay in this airlock one second longer than necessary.

"The main airlock door is still fully operational. It operates on an independent system than the secondary airlock, which has remained optimally undamaged," EDI explained, her disembodied voice somehow managing to sound concerned despite having no emotional inflection to it whatsoever, "You could not only exit through this airlock, but the subsequent decompression would snuff out the electrical fire due to the deprivation of oxygen. As Joker has put it, this would effectively 'kill two birds with one stone.'"

Shepard's eyes widened at that...for obvious reasons, "EDI, that's a great plan and all, but...did I forget to mention that I'm not wearing any protection whatsoever? Explosive decompression will kill me instantly. And even if we did a controlled decompression, the force would still yank me and Tali from the airlock with extreme force...you know, _away_ from the ship. Tali might be fine, but I don't envy my chances in that situation."

"There is no other option, Shepard," the AI reinforced, sounding genuinely remorseful, "I have attempted to find one thousand and four other ways to exit the airlock. Four hundred of those solutions require equipment we do not possess, two hundred and fifty require solutions that could incur harm or death upon you, three hun-"

"Okay, yeah, I get the idea EDI," Shepard interrupted, covering his mouth as the smoke became so intense that he could barely keep his eyes open. His eyes stung and watered painfully, forcing him to crouch and lie flat on the ground. As his training had taught him, smoke rises...meaning the area at the bottom of the airlock had a small gap of breathable air that would be free of smoke. He chose to remain here, head to its side. Tali saw this and joined him, having likely reached the same conclusion, "We need another solution...and fast, because we can't just lie here forever."

Minutes ticked on by as Shepard and Tali, with the help of EDI, brainstormed ideas for how to get out of this situation. The seconds ticked by in painful tranquility, the two occupants of the airlock forced to watch as the dull orange glow of the fire inside the panel intensified with each passing second, the conflagration beginning to feed its way out of the fascia, the bright light of the room now thoroughly drowned out by molasses-like tendrils of choking darkness. Pretty soon, the fire's radiant heat would be enough to kill them alone, and neither Shepard or Tali wanted to be around for that grisly death.

Just when it seemed like they'd conjured up nothing, Tali suddenly sat up, looking for all intents and purposes like someone from a cartoon who had just had an epiphany. All she needed was a light bulb to physically appear over her head. If they weren't imminently flirting with death right now, he might have laughed.

"I've got an idea, but its risky," Tali announced, looking up at the ceiling as she addressed EDI, "Theoretically, someone who has no suit or EVA function in their suit can survive in space for around...fifteen seconds, yes?"

"This is not theoretical, this is proven fact," EDI confirmed, "After fifteen seconds, a human will pass out due to insufficient oxygen supply to the cerebrum. After ninety seconds, the human will die from suffocation. As for the temperature in space, its possible for a human to survive exposure to these temperatures for a very brief period of time. However, this is extremely risky. It is rarely physically tried, only in extreme circumstances of-"

"-life-or-death?" the quarian finished for her, turning to look down at Shepard. If her mask wasn't one...actually, no, he could definitely identifiy that look even _with_ it on.

Desperation. Concern. Fear. Not just for herself, but for him.

She looked back up after a moment, "EDI, we don't have any choices. We're going to need a shuttle."

A few seconds passed before the AI caught onto the quarian's meaning, "Lieutenants Taylor and Lawson have been informed and are currently en route to the shuttle bay to procure a shuttle. I assume your plan is to launch yourselves into the shuttle upon decompression?"

"That's the plan," the quarian looked down at him, hand sliding down to grab his for a moment, squeezing it reassuringly, "It's our only chance."

"Very well, Tali," EDI replied, trying her best to sound reassuring but, once again, coming off as tone-deaf due to her AI voicebox lacking the capability for emotional inflection, "I recommend that you open one of the airlock emergency equipment panels and procure a breathing mask for Shepard. It will greatly aid in surviving the decompression should you be exposed for longer than fifteen seconds."

"Good idea," the quarian acknowledged, before standing up and heading to the aforementioned panel. One of the panels opened automatically, likely thanks to EDI, extending out a large rack that contained a breathing mask and a large EVA suit. Tali stared at it for a moment after plucking one of the breather masks, confused, "EDI, why doesn't here just wear the suit?"

"There is no time," EDI replied, "In the time it takes to fully apply the suit, radiant heat will kill you both."

"Got it. Makes sense," with the mask in hand, the engineer made her way down to Shepard, lifting the strap over the back of his head and placing the plastic respirator firmly over his mouth, double checking to ensure it had a tight seal. Already he could feel the air filtering into his mouth become restricted, but far less tainted with the smoky, bitter tinge that the air quality had been reduced to. He gave a thumbs up to Tali, who nodded her affirmation in response.

Mere seconds later, EDI spoke up again, "I recommend that both of you sit up for the rapid decompression of the airlock."

Having little choice but to comply with her instructions, Shepard reached out a hand to Tali, the quarian grabbing the offered appendage and quickly helping him to his feet. With a little repositioning, the two came back down to rest on their knees, just sort of kneeling, now facing each other and with smoke all around them. It was very difficult to see anything now, let alone themselves at this point. The two glowing blips that were her eyes acted as the only guiding influence in that vortex, and he took comfort in being able to look into them.

"Lieutenants Taylor and Lawson are almost in position," EDI announced suddenly, surprising the both of them. Seconds had passed simply staring into each other's eyes that they had allowed time to pass themselves by carelessly, totally forgetting their disasterous predicament, "I recommend that you brace yourselves. Beginning controlled decompression. Standby."

The heat in the room was becoming incredibly intense. Sweat glistened on his flesh, and he could hear Tali panting inside her suit. The hellish beacon of light that pierced the smoke was less of a welcome sign and closer to a reminder of the fate that awaited them if they failed to get out of this airlock soon.

The first sign that the process had begun was the sound of a loud hiss filling the room as the oxygen was forcefully removed from the room.

Suddenly and unexpectedly, he felt Tali reach forward and wrap her arms around him. As a result, he was pulled forward, pressing against her. Her head rested on his left shoulder, mask pressed into the crook of his neck. She didn't make a sound, and not a word left her mouth: her action spoke volumes on its own. He reciprocated the gesture just as the smoke began to lift, the gas expansion hard to not notice as his ears popped from the increase in pressure. He felt a chill seep into his bones as he wrapped his arms around his girlfriend, mirroring her gesture with one of his own, head resting gently on her own shoulder. The temperature began to drop significantly...further signs of the impending decompression that was coming.

"Controlled decompression procedure complete," EDI announced, almost going unnoticed by the two occupants in the room who were too focused holding tightly onto each other to notice, "Shuttle is in position."

"Do it, EDI," Shepard ordered, loud enough to be heard by the AI.

One moment the room was still. Silent, except for the sound of their own breathing and the crackling of flames. The next there was a rush of motion: the room was spinning one moment and then gone the next; swapped out for the black, dark void of space like a page of a slideshow being swiped. He immediately wanted to pass out, the cold temperature around him plummeting to astronomically low levels. He went from a slight chill to feeling like thousands of needles and knives were slashing across his skin, the pain causing him to cry out in reaction, using up precious oxygen. Like pinballs, their two bodies, intertwined like a ball of flesh, shot from the airlock like they had been kicked out at high force, remnants of smoke rushing out along with them before dissipating within seconds.

His vision spun, nausea overcoming him before he had a chance to contemplate he wasn't even in the ship anymore. Tali's grip on him tightened considerably in reaction to their plight, and despite the agony that overcame him, he responded in kind, biting through the unimaginable torment of his chilling veins in order to survive the next few seconds.

But that's all it took: a few, agonizingly perdurable seconds to pass from airlock to kodiak shuttle. Just as he had little to no time to determine that he had been flung through space like an unwanted doll, he had just as much time to brace for slamming into the back wall of a kodiak's internal hull, Tali and Shepard landing firmly on the deck of the vehicle just as the hatch closed, creating a sealed environment once more.

Still reeling from the brief process, Shepard rolled onto his stomach, tearing off his oxygen mask and tossing it to the side as he began to cough up foreign material in his throat that wasn't there, which quickly gave way to dry heaving.

A minute or so later, after the cabin had fully repressurized, the door to the shuttle's cockpit shot open, Miranda stepping out with what looked to be a rather bemused expression as she beheld the sight of Commander Shepard lying on the ground coughing up a lung, while Tali shook her dizzied head, barely keeping from retching herself.

"Well," Miranda began, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorway, "I didn't expect-"

"Don't say it, Miranda," Shepard held up a hand to cut her off, his tone agitated and exhausted, "I know. I fucking know. Believe me, I fucking _know_."

"I'm not setting foot in that airlock again until we know its not a death trap," Tali declared firmly, pulling herself up into a seating position.

"All the more reason to find a port to make repairs," Miranda affirmed, moving back into the cockpit, "We'll be redocked with the _Normandy_ soon. I'll let EDI know you're both safe."

"Thanks," Shepard sharply replied, finally pulling himself up and coming to sit next to Tali. The quarian placed her head on Shepard's shoulder as he did, both of them too physically fatigued from their brief exposure to space to be bothered doing anything else.

After Miranda had left the cabin, silence filled the vehicle for quite some time afterwards. It was only after the vehicle had begun to dock with the _Normandy_ that Tali even said anything.

"Um...I hate to bring this up, but I think I'm going to need new tools."

Shepard just turned and looked at her for a moment, frowning at her.

Then he smiled, the absurdity of such a statement coming after what they had just been through dawning on him, and with that, he began to laugh. And after a moment...Tali joined in, her uncontrolled amusement synching up with his so that the two were cackling like a pair of idiots by the time they had returned to dry land...so to speak.

He'd remember that day in the airlock for a long while. He'd remember it as one of the more absurd moments in his relationship with Tali.

One of _many_ absurd moments, to be sure.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_

 _ **Well, if you're still around atomicsub927, I hope this was what you were looking for. I really enjoyed writing this prompt, especially given that its a reference to one of my favourite sci-fi shows of all time. There were definitely moments here that required me to violate my rule on realism, but I think you'll find it's a very small sacrifice to make for a prompt like this.**_

 _ **As for everyone else...let me know what you think in the reviews!**_

 _ **Snapshot 24 is up next. Like I said, I've run out of dark prompts, so the next one will be another fluff piece.**_

 _ **Until then,**_

 _ **Keelah se'lai, troopers!**_


	25. Snapshot 24: Cabin Fever

_**This prompt was requested by DwemerSteelBlade. This is a pretty laid back prompt: nothing big and grandiose, just nice and simple. I hope you guys enjoy it. :D**_

* * *

Commander Shepard was an invincible powerhouse of a man. Now, that was most certainly an exaggeration. He wasn't _literally_ invincible...but his reputation had done little to keep that from being embellished. Holding off armies single-handedly, storming bunkers, surviving thresher maw assaults, killing two-kilometer tall sentient starships, coming back from the dead, surviving a suicide mission...his list of accomplishments got more and more ridiculously over-the-top with each passing victory, and one could have sworn he was in a elongated, protracted competition with himself to constantly outdo his own achievements at every opportunity.

So yeah...he was invincible in practice. I mean, he did _die..._ but he came back! Stronger and better than ever, even! His new cybernetics turned his already present skill set and augmented them tenfold. Enhanced reflexes and strength turned him into a juggernaut of destruction that even left him awed at the best of times. He could wield shotguns that would normally dislocate his shoulder, and even headbutt krogan without immediately fracturing his skull. All these new toys only added to the myth of his invulnerability. He was a ghost armed to the teeth, with a ship and a squad to boot. Nothing seemed to be beyond his ability to defeat, and as fate would have it, that theory was constantly put to the test. Even now, his team was helping his friend, Liara T'Soni, hunt down and dethrone the most ancient and powerful information broker the galaxy had ever witnessed.

And as one would expect...they were winning. He was reminded of the famous 'Bloody First' infantry battalion in WWII, and how their motto had been adopted in large part by the N7s as a whole. 'No mission too difficult, no sacrifice too great. Duty first.' Sure, there had been modern spins on the age-old saying, but the overall principle was there. Shepard and his team had proven this saying to be true on more than one occasion. They proved it again and again, throwing more and more evidence onto an evergrowing archive. It was almost comical the odds his team had faced and circumvented. It was like a video game at times: too much of a breeze for it to be real. Sure, they had their setbacks, and the harder tasks were always exactly what they were hyped up to be, but they conquered the odds nonetheless.

Was Shepard invincible? No. Was he fairly indestructible? It seemed highly probable. That, or God was real, and he had plans for this man that he simply would not allow to be interfered with, and thus was granting him divine guidance. It would certainly help make the whole 'resurrection' angle make sense. And if not that...then Shepard had somehow found a way to make stubbornness an actual military strategy that was viable.

But if the universe needed anymore proof that Shepard was not in fact invincible, that he _could_ be defeated...then today was the day for it to shine.

Shepard _was not_ happy.

"I've said it before, Mordin. Let me make it clear a second time," he hissed through clenched teeth, blowing his nose a second time, the disgusting and vile sensation of clogged sinuses being violently ejected into the soft, thin white sheet one that he hated every single time it occurred. Looking back up at the salarian standing beside his bed, he narrowed his eyes, "I don't have a single fucking clue what's wrong with me, or how I got this."

Mordin just shook his head, waving his hand dismissively as his amphibian eyes blinked multiple times in rapid succession, his salarian metabolism feeding his hyper-active behaviour as he read over his datapad at light speed, managing to finish entire paragraphs within seconds of laying eyes upon them. There was a reason Cerberus had hired the retired-STG operative-turned-professor for their suicide squad, and it wasn't entirely for his skills in combat. His dozen or so science degrees and seemingly endless knowledge of interspecies physiology, combined with his work on a new strain of the 'sterility plague' that ended the Krogan Rebellions, made an invaluable member of the team, especially after their departure from the organization. Mordin's abilities were unparalleled, leaving even experienced professionals like Doctor Chakwas trailing behind, although the doctor herself never complained. Mordin was erudite, plain and simple. One of the best.

Right now though, Mordin's accuracy and inquisitive mind was only irritating the commander, said vexation only exacerbated by his concurrent situation, "Source easily determined. Recent mission to Aequitas. Mine...filled with husks. Watched you remove helmet. Open-air exposure for exactly 14.6 seconds. Symptoms corroborate findings. Blood test positive. Narrowed down all possibilities. Consulted Union Disease Control Union Index for Galactic Diseases. Cross-referenced. Narrowed down further. Only one conclusion," the salarian stopped for a moment, inhaling a deep breath as he usually did after a long series of stringed-together sentences, which was a salarian's way of literally taking a breath. Exhaling, he finished, "BT34-4A Upper Respiratory Tract Disease. Most prefer to call it 'Snark'. No idea why. Doesn't matter."

Absorbing the mouthful of information that the salarian had regurgitated from the absolute chaos of a mind that only a salarian could sort through...or rather, dumbly stared at the scientist in dead silence for a few seconds, Shepard slowly turned to look at Chakwas, who had simply nodded to the professor's conclusion.

Seeing the look on his face, Chakwas was prepared with a far more simple answer, "You've got a cold."

"No, very little hypothermic symptoms. Term 'cold' not accurate. More akin-"

"That's what humans call it colloquially, Doctor Solus," Chakwas elaborated, looking up at him as she explained.

"Ah. Hmmm," Mordin sniffed for a second, eyes looking to glaze over as he pondered that tidbit information before seeming to snap out of his haze in an instant, "Confusing. Term 'cold' not accurate to symptoms. Irrelevant. Will defer to human colloquial diagnosis. Commander, you have a cold."

"Good to know," he muttered, sitting up and twisting around in his bed to hang his legs over the edge of it, "So I guess I can go back to work."

In this domain, Chakwas was in charge. While Mordin could be authoritative when he wanted to be, his bedside manner largely revolved around indifference and facts. He told you the facts, and if you decided to follow his advice, good for you...if not, he didn't care. His job was done, as far as he was concerned. 'Cannot cure stupidity,' Mordin would say, 'Don't have time for it. Could if I wanted too. Need a bigger facility for that. Hmmmm...something to consider. But no, cannot cure stupidity. Unfortunate for you.' So yes, Mordin was hardly one to care beyond that point...he gave advice, not orders.

Chakwas was an entirely different animal. Her diagnosis was more akin to an ultimatum, and if she believed you were unfit for duty, she'd waste no time pulling rank and forcing off-duty convalescence...which she did often and loudly. She was like a motherly figure onboard the ship...caring when people needed her to lend an ear to their troubles, and stern when it came to matters of her profession and what she thought was best for those she treated. Back when they were in the Alliance, her rank allowed her to give Shepard orders on official grounds...since their return to the fold and resignation from the Alliance, the roles had been downplayed...but Chakwas didn't get that memo, and Shepard never even bothered trying to argue with her, knowing how stubborn she could be.

Which is why he sighed as he felt her hand press against his chest, stopping him from getting up to leave, "Hold your horses, Shepard. You are in no fit state to return to your duties."

As if to prove her point, he coughed four times in quick succession, the sounds dry and pointed, each one feeling like a large object was trying to explode from his throat. He sniffed, and rubbed the sore and irritated skin underneath his eyes, which had grown red and puffy from being itched constantly. All of these were a result of this disease he had been infected with, and every reminder of it made him wish he had never removed his helmet on that stupid planet, internal suit calculations regarding the safety of the surrounding locale be damned. Looking up at her, he tried his best to put on a veneer of confidence, but his appearance did little to reinforce that illusion, "Doc, you said yourself that it's just a cold...I've got work to do. Liara is close to tracking down the Shadow Broker, and I need to be ready for when we attack his base."

Chakwas just rolled her eyes, arms crossed, "All excuses. Liara won't come up with anything credible for at least a few more days...more than enough time for you to rest and wait for this cold to pass off. A couple days' rest should do it."

Shepard sighed, unwilling to back down easily, "I can't just sit down and do nothing, Karin."

"That's _exactly_ what you will do," Chakwas declared, wagging a disapproving finger at him, "No ifs, buts or maybes. You will rest and let this cold pass. We can't have you passing it on to the crew. Besides, we need you at your best, and struck down by a cold is not anywhere close to that."

"It's a cold, not a crippling disease!" he snapped, the sudden action causing him to sneeze into the tissue he had on hand. Repulsed by the glob of mucus that now drenched the inside of the tissue, he scrunched it up and threw into the bin next to him, retrieving another one and wiping his nose of the remnants, "I am commander of this ship, and I don't have time to just sit around and recover. The Reapers are coming, and we have to be ready."

"Reaper arrival in a few days unlikely," Mordin piped up, barely paying attention to the conversation as he looked over his omni-tool, looking like he had already moved onto the galaxy's next great scientific conundrum to solve, "Would take months for them to arrive at the very least. Plenty of time to prepare."

He glared at the salarian for so casually demolishing his only remaining argument, feeling for all intents and purposes like a child who had been held back from school and forced to sleep in all day. As if to fit this moment, he sighed again.

"Mordin is right. The Reapers aren't going anywhere," Chakwas affirmed, "Mordin believes the disease...your cold...will run its course in two to three days. I expect you to spend that in your cabin and recovering. Please don't make me turn that into an order. I may not technically outrank you anymore, but I seriously don't think you want to make an issue out of this, do you?"

"No, Karin," he exhaled, capitulating to his fate, "I suppose I can lay low for just a couple of days. No more than that."

"Excellent," the doctor stated, smiling upon her victory, walking back over to her desk and sitting back down in it, her work done. It wasn't a smug smile, but one that was glad that her advice was being validated. He supposed her position was much like his with the Council: a repeated set of warnings that go ignored out of convenience. In a way, Shepard was just as bad as the Council in that regard.

That thought stung.

Seeing as the doctor had nothing else to say, and Mordin was off with his own project as he wandered into the corner of the room to mumble to himself (something the eccentric doctor always seemed to be doing), he took that as being dismissed and quickly stood up and made his way over to the medbay door, sneezing again as his clogged sinuses continued to pester him. He had reached the door and palmed the interface and had been just about to step out when the doctor spun in her seat to face him, calling out, "Oh, and Shepard..."

He stopped, pivoting his body to face her slightly, "Yes, Karin?"

She gave him a knowing look, "Since you have a history with defying my recommendations on many occasions, and I wouldn't bother denying it, I think it would be fitting to have someone preside over your recovery process. I would oversee it myself, but I have a medbay to run, and Mordin...well, he does what he wants, when and where it suits him, and I don't think looking after you would satisfy him for very long. I'll be giving this person the medication I've prescribed for you, just to make sure you don't try to space it...again, like you've done in the past."

He cringed at being reminded of that particular incident back during the Saren days, and elected to ignore that jab as he questioned the doctor. The idea of being treated like a child didn't sit well with him, but considering the doctor was right about his...history...in ignoring her wishes or blatantly defying them, he supposed he couldn't blame her precautionary measures, even if they frustrated him, "And just who do you have in mind?"

Chakwas just smiled, "Oh, I think you'll find they're an expert on being sick. And they might just be the one person on this ship you'll actually take orders from."

It wasn't immediately obvious to Shepard who Chakwas meant, and he still remained confused right up until he returned to his cabin as instructed, lying down on his bed, hands clasped into his lap, and whistling some obscure tune.

It didn't become obvious until the door opened, and the person in question presented themselves an hour later.

"Tali, this is completely unnecessary."

"Not according to Doctor Chakwas it isn't," Tali insisted, sitting on the bed beside him, facing the wall, filling up a plastic cup full of whatever medicinal substance Chakwas had prescribed him to drink in order to cure the ailness that afflicted him, "And if she says I have to make sure you lay there and rest, then so be it."

He jokingly pouted, trying his best to be difficult, "I thought we agreed to a relationship, not for you to be my carer."

"Wouldn't need to care for you if you didn't get sick, you idiot," she rightly pointed out.

He just shrugged, turning to grin at her, "Hey, at least now that we've got two days together, maybe we can-"

"No sex, Shepard."

"Damn," he slapped his knee, capitulating to his non-existent defeat, "My plan was foiled. Me getting sick was actually an elaborate strategy to get two days alone with you."

Tali just rolled her eyes, finishing with measuring the fluid in her cup and now turning to feed it to him, placing her hand on the bed to brace herself, "If you're done acting like a child, you can drink this."

"I resent that claim," he pointed at her, trying to sound and look offended, but after seeing how unaffected by this Tali was, he immediately figured out his flawed approach. Quarians had developed to become masters at reading body language, so she probably saw right through his facade the moment he put it up. Foolish of him to think he could persuade her on that front. Unable to find an actual reason to cause further objection, he reached out and retrieved the cup, downing it instantly in one gulp.

He coughed and spluttered, regretting that instantly as his tastebuds flared up in response to the awful concoction. Squinting his eyes and glaring at a giggling Tali, he looked down into the cup, eying the single remaining drop of the fluid inside with disgust, "What the fuck is that? Tastes like I just downed an entire bottle of detergent. Jesus fucking christ, that's an affront to flavor!"

Once she was able to control her amusement, the quarian shook her head at him, "It's medicine Shepard, not a cocktail. It's meant to be effective, not taste good."

He scoffed at that, regretting that action the moment he did it because it caused the awful taste of the medicine he swallowed to swell up in his throat again, tainting it further with the barbarous concoction, "Thousands of years of medical science can't produce medicine that least tastes consumable? I feel like I just drank something I shouldn't have."

"Keelah, you're so dramatic," Tali chastized, taking the plastic cup from his open hand and placing it back over the bottle that she had taken it from, the bottle itself being placed back on the counter beside the bed, "You act like you're the only person who has ever had to drink bad tasting medicine before."

He rubbed his eyes, yet another cough becoming the only response he could muster to that. She was right, because to complain about being sick to someone who...will, can literally get sick just from a brief moment of exposure, seemed something an entitled asshole would do. In fact, Tali was only just recovering from an illness herself, and a fairly significant one at that. One which had resulted from an equally significant action that neither one of them would ever take for granted. While the risk had been great, the end result was hardly something either of them could complain about. Only one of them had anything to lose through the action, and Tali had only one thing to say on it: it was totally worth it.

So yeah...he really did have no right to complain about being sick. Especially as he would recover in a few days, not to mention nowhere close to dying from it. For Tali, or any quarian for that matter, a small suit rupture could be fatal depending on the amount of exposure and for how long.

An epiphany dawned on him. For all his irritation and annoyance at his predicament, it seemed almost petty and trivial to complain about a damn cold when the person looking after him and ensuring he rested could die from her own species' equivalent of one. It was something he hardly spent any time contemplating, but now that he was stricken with one, and had spent enough time bleating about it, he felt regret. It was disrespectful and pathetic, and all it seemed to do was trivialize Tali's own struggles with being ill. And in light of the very risks she had taken to be with him just recently...

"Sorry," he blurted out, suddenly and without warning. If Tali was bothered by it, she showed no sign of it, simply turning to look at him with a shrug, her tone laced with amusement.

"You should be," she returned, "If I knew looking after my boyfriend while he's sick would be this difficult, I might have backed out sooner."

He wasn't going to back down though, even if Tali was trying to dismiss his apology with humor, "No, I'm serious. It's pretty selfish of me to complain about being sick to you of all people."

She still didn't seem bothered, almost like she had already forgiven him, "I can't expect you to know exactly what it's like to be quarian, Shepard. It's okay. Besides, I think you're more annoyed at the fact that I'm having to look after you than the fact you have a little bit of a cough."

He grunted, shaking his head with a grin before he coughed and sneezed in tandem, a joint effort on his body's behalf to continue mocking his brain's inability to rid its vessel of the disease that infected it. He groaned, wiping his nose with a tissue after he procured it from his bedside stash. A moment later, the snot-soaked utility found its way into the bin beside his bed, "Yeah, being assigned a nanny was hardly a prospect I looked forward to."

"Wouldn't be so bad if you knew how to follow doctor's instructions," Tali jabbed, lightly poking him in the chest with a finger, "You've got no one but yourself to blame for this punishment."

He shot her a knowing look, the intent behind his words reflected in his eyes, "I can think of worse punishments."

Tali just sighed, her hand twitching hesitantly on the bedsheets for a second before reaching over and grasping his hand gently. There was a tenderness in that motion, and he squeezed her hand in return, enjoying the comforting feel of her soft, gloved hand wrapped tenderly ontop of his.

After a moment however, she removed her hand, laughing, "Well... _I_ certainly can't. Can't get much worse if you ask me."

"You're already proving to be a terrible nanny, by the way," he shot back, hands coming to rest behind his head, "I think my sickness is worsening with each insult I have to suffer."

She elbowed him playfully, "So dramatic. You should be an actor."

"And defeat the Reapers with my wooden acting? You might be onto something, you know."

"Keelah... _please_ no. You'll bring armageddon down on us all!"

"Perish the thought!"

Quiet passed down on them both for a brief moment before Shepard reached out to her, palmed facing up. She eyed his hand for a second, as if afraid to take it. Seeing this, he chuckled, grin lighting up his face in an attempt to assuage the quarian's assumed concern, "Come on Tali, you're in a suit. I'm going to find it very difficult to infect you through all of that, don't you think?"

She wasted no time arguing that logic and took his hand, allowing herself to be guided to his side, where she came to rest with her head ontop of his chest, arms wrapped around his body and hers hugging closely to him. He breathed in deeply, resting his face ontop of her hood and kissing her softly.

Minutes passed in silence, the two of them totally quiet, before Shepard finally spoke up again, "You know, a few days here with nothing to do but cuddle with you doesn't seem so bad now."

Tali just hummed contently, obviously in agreement, "There's more work to be done in engineering, but...this is nice. Don't think I've forgotten why I'm here, though. I won't be going easy on you. You need to take your medicine if you want to get better."

"Yes, mum."

* * *

For the most part, the two enjoyed the few days they had together. Cuddling was what they spent doing most of the time, while the rest of the time was spent with Tali pestering him to take his medicine and the two just sitting and talking. Just as Chakwas promised, Shepard gradually improved. One day he stopped coughing and sneezing. The next, his nose stopped running and his skin swelled down. Eventually, by the third day, he was completely fine.

He decided to inform Tali of this the only way he knew how.

Both of them fully awake, he turned to her, lying on his side, and grinned at her, "You know Tali, I feel much better now..."

"Hmmmm...?" she cooed coyly.

A stray hand landed on her hip, sliding down until it squeezed her left buttock. She squirmed against him, but the sound that left her mask was one of approval, not rejection. He leaned in, whispering to her, "And it's been a while since we-"

Tali apparently needed no more persuading. She practically tore off her mask and smashed her lips against his, and the two quickly began to kiss frantically. They hadn't been together since their first night many weeks ago, and their patience had finally broken. Spending all this time together had caused them to focus on it too much, and with the dam broken, the two went out with a frenzy neither of them could have been prepared for.

Shepard, now shirtless, worked on helping Tali remove her suit. Just as he began the final process to reveal her torso, she stopped him, pulling her lips from his and looking him directly in the eyes, blowing a stray bit of unkempt hair that had obscured her face, "Wait, are you sure you're okay? No offense, but I don't want to get what you've got."

He reached down and kissed her on the cheek, responding as he began to kiss along the nape of her neck. Her eyes flitted, her attention becoming decentralized as she began to lose her train of thought, "I feel fine, Tali. Better than fine. Trust me, if I didn't, we wouldn't be doing this right now."

Tali seemed to accept this. Either that, or her impatience overrode her caution, because the next moment she was right back to peeling off her suit again, and resumed kissing him, nibbling on his ear as she kissed him all over his face, the two of them laughing as they awkwardly peeled off their clothes.

She really should have been more careful.

Tali was a cautious woman. Really cautious. Every suit rupture was checked and double checked, and she absolutely refused to not check every square inch of her suit for such potential ruptures whenever she performed suit maintenance, or had finished a combat mission. Her people had honed it into her that caution was safety, and that to falter in this could certainly mean death. She never failed in this.

Until now.

She blamed Shepard for this. She blamed him for his damn handsome looks, his touch, his soothing words, the feel of him in-no, damn it! No, this was his fault! He told her he was fine, that the cold had passed! And then Tali...she had thrown caution to the wind! She was supposed to be careful, but she had allowed the promise of pleasure and warmth to cloud her judgment, and now she was paying for it!

She had been fine for most of it. Tali and Shepard had...well, they had sex. Great sex. Awesome se-besides the point. They had fun, they fell asleep. They woke up in the worning, Tali ready to return to duty. But just as Tali went to kiss Shepard one final time...

...she sneezed, right in his face, snot and mucus blasting his face and spilling into his open, waiting mouth. The bosh'tet deserved it.

She didn't know how...but Shepard had infected her with the same damn cold he had.

She rested there, in bed, Shepard giving the angry quarian a wide berth as he stood, arms crossed, leaning against a wall near the door. Chakwas and Mordin stood over her, the former typing away at a datapad while Mordin spoke with her. The quarian was...not happy, to say the least.

Who could blame her?

Mordin, for all intents and purposes, treated her illness like it was a scientific discovery, his voice sounding more intrigued than concerned, "Interesting. Snark disease demonstrates high adaptability, cross-chiralty infection rate. Rate of infectivity exponentially higher than initially expected," he took a deep breath before continuing, "However, infection puzzling. Unlikely both of you were infected simultaneously. Also no incubation period for disease...effects instantaneously. Had to have been-"

"I have an explanation for that," Chakwas spoke up, turning to glare daggers at Shepard who sheepishly ignored her pointed stare, "This ape thought he was fine, so he...spent some time with Tali. And now Tali has it."

Mordin, lacking decorum, glossed over Chakwas' attempt at being subtle, "Ah, Shepard and Tali'Zorah engaged in sexual relations...explains cross-species infection. Yes, very irresponsible. Should have waited longer."

"Thanks Mordin," Tali growled, sneezing three times in rapid pace, " _Very_ helpful."

"Sarcasm unnecessary. Only trying to help," the salarian retorted, reflecting none of the indignance that his reply insinuated. He simply returned to his omni-tool, cycling through the information found there, "Would be interested to know that cold is no more dangerous to quarians than any other species. Weakened immune system will amplify effects, elongate its longevity, yes...but will not be fatal or life-threatening. Will require...a week and a half of bed rest."

Tali snapped up from that, practically launching out of her bed as she locked eyes with the salarian in an instant. Mordin didn't flinch at all, simply meeting the quarian's gaze with a steady equivalent of his own, looking more intrigued by her reaction than startled by it. Chakwas however took a step back, like she didn't know what Tali was going to do next.

"A WEEK AND A HALF!? I have work to do! Repairs to complete! Maintenance to run! Keelah, we could be raiding the Shadow Broker's base in just a few days! I'll be needed for the ground team!"

Composing herself as soon as she realized Tali didn't plan on doing anything violent, Chakwas straightened her labcoat and addressed the quarian with a stern response, "You'll be doing no such thing. You will be confined to the ship and expected to rest for the next week and a half. Normally I'd be fine letting anyone infected with a cold to attend ground missions, but as you are quarian, your specifc reaction to this cold is of particular interest. Any number of complications could cause a spike in your body's reactivity to the disease, and you will need to be close at hand if that happens. I can't help you if your on a battlefield. It is safer, for you and the team, if you remain on the ship for the duration of your illness."

Tali groaned pathetically, falling back into the medbed, "This is...completely ridiculous! I've had worse sicknesses than this before and still been fine!"

"If you had told me of such illnesses, I would have said the same as I'm saying now," the doctor pointed out.

The quarian offered little more on that front, simply crossing her arms and pouting. Things couldn't get much worse than this...to be grounded so close to their final showdown with the Shadow Broker, when her skills would be needed.

She shot a glare at Shepard, who was still keeping himself scarce in the background, nary making a sound. It wasn't entirely his fault...she was also at fault by complicity alone. She should have said no, told him to wait another day...Shepard was understanding. He would have waited, not wanting to risk her health. But at the same time...he's smart enough to know! Neither of them should have allowed desire and impatience to override basic instincts! And now the sickness was back, with the roles reversed!

But as if to add salt to the wound, Chakwas spoke up again, offering little to assuage Tali's building sour mood, "Of course, knowing your reputation for shrugging off illness to do your duty, you will need to have someone watching over you as well to make sure you never leave the cabin. And since you so selflessly put aside your own duties to help him, I will assign Shepard to look after you."

All eyes in the room turned to Shepard...except Mordin's, who was already off muttering to himself. Tali's cold seemed too trivial to take up anymore of his precious brain power, and he was probably already planning the cure for cancer...or coming up with a bioweapon to use against the Reapers' foot soldiers. Nobody could ever tell with salarians.

Shepard looked like a deer caught in the headlights, as a human would put it. His eyes widened, looking at Chakwas with a 'you mean me?' expression that oozed confusion. When the doctor's eyes only widened to confirm this, he finally spoke up, "In case you haven't been told already, we're going to be-"

"-assaulting the Shadow Broker's base in a few days. I know, you've both informed me _ad nauseum_ ," the doctor drawled with a roll of the eyes, "Believe it or not, I am tuned into the goings on around this ship. I also know your the ground mission commander, but considering you indirectly caused this, I see it fitting that you should be the one to help your girlfriend recover. Send Garrus to lead the mission, since you keep harping on about grooming him for command."

"Sure."

Chakwas was taken back by that, as was Tali. _Nobody_ expected that answer. Recovering from her surprise, Chakwas stuttered out an answer, "W-what?"

"Garrus will lead the team. I have confidence he can get it done," Shepard declared, moving over to stand by Tali's bed, looking down at her, "If my girlfriend needs me, I will answer her call. Especially if it's doctor's orders."

He was smirking. The wink confirmed it. She inwardly fumed, cheeks burning. _Bosh'tet. He's an absolute bosh'tet! He's laughing! I know he is!_

"Well, we're all done here then," Chakwas stated, motioning to the door, "Now, if you could kindly stop spreading the Aequitas common cold, I have work to do. Like prepping my medbay for the inevitable casualties resulting from that assault everybody keeps reminding me of like I was born yesterday. In other words: kindly get out."

"Yes ma'am," Shepard snapped a salute, before holding out a hand to help Tali out. That damn grin was there, "A whole week and a half, eh? What do you say Tali? Time for more cuddles?"

She rolled her eyes. _Damn this man!_

 _I love him, but damn him!_

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_

 _ **More cuddles, anyone?**_

 _ **I hope you enjoyed this prompt. Just a nice, laidback, do-nothing prompt. Some humor here and there, right? I found it quite enjoyable to write, and I hope it's everything you wanted Dwemer. Bonus if it gives a little more than you asked for, too. Be sure to leave a review letting me know which. :)**_

 _ **Well, it's the home stretch guys. I'll be doing Chapter 15 of EQC next, but after that...suffice to say, we've only got two prompts to go. Two. Seems like only a month ago I started Flashpoint...but I started it last year! How time flies. Anyway, we've got two prompts left...but only one left from you guys. That's right...I've got a special, final prompt cooked up that I think will help resolve Flashpoint nicely...I think you'll like it.**_

 _ **Until then,**_

 _ **Keelah Se'lai, troopers!**_


	26. Snapshot 25: In The Forests of Mindoir

_**This prompt was requested by Omega 6047. This is a somewhat complicated prompt compared to the others, but I accepted it because I really like the idea of exploring an alternate beginning to Shepard and Tali's first meeting. Sure, it's been done before, but it's cute...and its definitely unique compared to the other prompts I've on Flashpoint. So without further a-do...here it is, the last official prompt! Enjoy everyone!**_

* * *

 _What a pretty planet._

For even a young girl such as her, her mind barely developed by comparison to the adults who surrounded her at all times, and fundamentally flawed in its grasp of the life and reality she was subject to, she could see beauty. Such a thing did not require an intellectual filter to perceive or comprehend. It wasn't an outwardly complex or unobtainable knowledge, and while subject to subjective analysis, it wasn't something she couldn't understand, as young as she might have been. Beauty seemed almost like a self-evident quality that some people were hardwired to identify, while others had to seek it out. For some of the adults around her...beauty was an indulgence their industrious, frustrated and absorbed lives didn't have time for. Others found beauty elsewhere...sometimes in their loved ones, other times in darker places that others would consider unpleasant or contemptible.

But she understood beauty in her own way. And what she saw below dazzled her imagination, obfuscating her in a good way.

 _Min-dore_. _Mindore. Or was it Min-dar?_ _Mindar? No, that doesn't sound right either. Keelah, why can't I remember how to pronounce it? Mother told me. If only I could remember how to pronounce the second syllable..._

She must have been quite the amusing sight to stumble upon whilst walking by the observation deck, the sight of a small quarian child, only just recently given her prepubescent suit yesterday, with her mask pressed firmly up against the glass, her hands splayed across its surface as if to test its yield, a sight to gather a few laughs. She had heard few, although that was largely because her people, or rather the crew of the _Rayya_ , were busy with other tasks that required their full attention. Even her parents, both of them admirals, were elsewhere at current, leaving their excitable, rambunctious and inquisitive daughter, emboldened by the newfound freedoms of having her first envirosuit, to wander the decks alone.

That had, quite unintentionally, brought her here. The planet the _Rayya_ was currently orbitting was not quarian, she had been told...it was an alien planet, belonging to the new species that had just recently arrived on the galactic scene.

Humans. The name sounded strange on her tongue, but that's how it was with alien lexicons. Turian words sounded sophisticated and authoritative. Salarian words were strange and surreal. Asari words sounded ethereal and mystical. Krogan and batarian words were harsh and scary. Khelish was as natural as breathing to the quarian, but she often wandered in her Khelish lessons how strange her own language sounded to others. Was there a krogan who found khelish strange, just as she found kresh to be intimidating and otherwordly? She often asked these questions aloud, and each time her teacher's answer was the same: everything is strange to other cultures who have not experienced ours.

She never accepted that answer. It seemed dismissive, and she was somewhat suspicious that her teacher disapproved of such tangents. She brought some conspiratorial beliefs to her mother after school each day. Her mother would laugh and tell her to keep asking. Her father would roll his eyes, and tell her to focus on her studies. As always, she chose to juggle both, much to father's chagrin, and mother's delight.

She had always been the child that insisted on building a knowledge base regardless of the consequences. This made others regard her as a savant among her peers, while her father often called her a _sha'peh_ whose insatiable curiosity was one day going to have her cannibalizing decontamination rooms just to see if they could work under less-than-optimal circumstances. She had been hungry for information from the moment she learnt to say ' _sey_ ' (khelish for 'mother'), with a pointed interest in the operation of machinery and tech. By the time she was 8 years old, only just last year, she knew the basic operation of an omni-tool and how the microcomputer within worked.

Unfortunately, the sacrifice for gaining that knowledge was that her father yelled at her for hours for disassembling his omni-tool. It was his fault for leaving the thing in the same room as her. She didn't have access to any other equipment to experiment with while trapped inside that bubble, so she saw an opportunity and took it. And her father's poor omni-tool paid the price.

Luckily, her mother chose not to focus on the negative, and saw the quarian's penchant for the workings of a machine. Her interest in tech was obvious, so the moment she was able to leave her bubble, she was enrolled in as many engineering classes as her mother saw fit. And she couldn't wait to begin them.

Yesterday had been something of a 'coming of age' for her. While the official rite of passage she would have to endure wouldn't be until she was much older, just being able to walk freely through the passages of her birth ship was a feeling of liberation many magnitudes greater than anything else she had ever felt before in her entire life. The 'bubble', as her people called it, felt like she was wrapped in a suffocating plastic: an airtight, sterile tube that wrapped around her body like a loose sheet of clothing...baggy and impractical for extravagant movement. It was mostly certainly an upgrade from the literal, sterile 'Phase 1 Bubble' she had placed in from the moment of her birth. She had grown out of that when she was 3, and since then she had been wearing this 'Phase 2 Bubble', whose only difference was that it allowed her to actually walk on her own two feet. It felt good, but quickly wore off once she was made aware of what her parents could do with their suits. Eventually, she started asking when she would get hers, and now her prayers were answered. She had her very own suit, at last.

It wasn't permanent, of course. She would grow out of it eventually, and require a larger one to accomodate her size. This happened for males a lot more frequently however, and she wasn't expected to need a new suit until she was 15, what most called the 'pilgrimage suit.' Such a suit granted more control to the user, which came with the larger amount of maturity that came with that age and the realization of how important the suit was to her health and survival.

The problem was that sge had gotten these lectures before, and it still didn't seem fair. She wanted to ticker with her suit...pull it apart, experiment with it, see how it ticked. Her analytical brain practically demanded she quench this hunger by giving into it, yet she couldn't even if she wanted to. Her suit was specifically designed so that she couldn't take it off: not even her mask could be removed. Her parents had full control over the suit's systems, and without their permission, she could do nothing to disconnect even the most non-essential component of it. Even her mother, always the one to give into her desires in order to further her passion for tech, wouldn't budge on this. For once, her mother and father were united on that front.

All she could do was pout. For now, her newfound exploratory opportunities would have to do. And take full advantage of them she would. Although she had neglected to mention to her parents that she had found a way to remove her mask without her parents' permission...guess that's what you get for giving a rising technical prodigy her very first omni-tool. She tends to look for ways to get in trouble.

Her mind turned back to the planet below, and the boundless enchantment that caught her eye. Her breath caught simply gazing upon the enormous, abyssal mass of land and water that was held together by gravitational forces and the other innumerable scientific calculations that molded the universe's many wonders into what they were. Stars blinked and sparkled all around, their distance deceptive and indecipherable, indicating a closeness to their proximity that didn't properly account for the millions upon millions of light years that were between them and a single one of those lights. She felt as though she could reach out as grasp them in her suited palm...but they were far away, possibly further than any ship could hope to reach in a single lifetime.

But this planet...it was close, tangible and so tantalizingly close. Temptation beckoned her to bet with fate, allowing its presence alone to awe her with the promise of exploration and new locations she had never seen before. She wasn't the only one with this mindset: while her history was rusty, she knew that a race of evil machines had cast her people from the planet of their birth, and that the _Rayya_ was one of many ships that her people were forced to now call home. It seemed foreign to her...the idea that her people had once lived on planets such as these. Their biomes random and diverse, sometimes teeming with life and other times bereft of them. Some could be lived on, their land sprouting fruits that could be thrived upon. Other planets were hostile and inhospitable, more likely to kill those who dared to step foot there, or simply too barren to be attractive for residence.

None of this was familiar to her. She was but a child, but many adults seemed to share this view. Her own mother often theorized what she believed the homeworld to have looked like, either drawing from existing historical records of the faraway home she had never known or making wild assumptions based on what she thought to be true... _wanted_ to be true. She had to admit she found such recollections oddly melancholic, and even her mother's tone seemed wistful and hopelessly nostalgic, romanticizing a world she had never even laid eyes upon. That no living quarian ever had.

To come across other planets...it seemed too painful a reminder of what they had lost. She was the only quarian on the observation deck at this time. Not just the only child, but the only quarian...period. She practically had the whole deck to herself, and whenever people did move past, it was quick and eager...almost like they didn't want to step foot in the room for too long, for if they did they might be tempted to take a peek...and then they would be lost to their own sorrow.

She didn't share their sadness. She shared her parents' hatred for the enemy that she had never seen personally, and if her mother was to be heeded, the enemy she was hoped to never have to encounter. They were mean, cold beings...murderers and unfeeling butchers. Her classmates would often regale her with tales of what their military parents had encountered during their missions into enemy space...and the horrors they encountered. She woke abruptly and often from terrible nightmares, pieced together with images of what her classmates had described to her. She decided she hated these machines, whoeever they were. She hated them for depriving her of a planet she had never seen. She hated them for making her parents sad. She hated them.

Hate was a strong word, her mother said. But for this enemy...it seemed appropriate, and her father was lacking in disagreement.

So for a quarian, any planet looked particularly pleasing to look at...when one could muster the courage to do so. The tiny quarian, blissfully ignorant of the broader implications of exactly what such planetoids meant to them as a species, didn't have this issue. If anything, she was consumed by a different emotion as she gazed upon it, eager to get a peek at the secrets it held. What was this place? What lay upon it? What was it like to live on a planet? What was the gravity compared to those simulated starships? Did oxygen feel different to inhale on a planet? Oh, and what wildlife lived there? Were they like the animals of her home planet?

And the one question that exhilarated her the most: what did a human look like? She had very few opportunities available to her to access the extranet, and when she did, it was largely limited to her research into tech. She wasn't allowed the freedom of unlimited access just yet, her parents worried of the things she might see if allowed to explore it unfiltered. She was exasperated by their coddling of her, but in the end she knew there was no escaping it, so she had accepted it. This meant her experiences with aliens were...depressingly scarce. She had never met a non-quarrian at all, or even glimpsed one. And everything she knew about them stemmed from her people, who either held grudges that coloured their biased descriptions of them, or were greatly misinformed.

The asari were arrogant. The salarians were condescending. The krogan were brutish animals. The batarians were evil mass-murderers. The volus were business tycoons who thrived on profit. The hanar were religious evangelicals. The elcor were slow and plodding and dull. The vorcha were vicious and dumb. Turians were rigid ruffians. And humans...well, her people had little to offer on them, as they were a species that had only been introduced to the galaxy just five years before she was born. They had made a big name for themselves in that small timeframe, and their expansionism and entitlement shocked many and intimidated others. They were considered bullies and tyrants, thirsty for power and very high strung. They would stop at nothing to get what they wanted, and their incessant demand to get a Council seat was known throughout the galaxy for its audacity.

But the one thing that enthralled her the most was the tales of how remarkably similar to quarians were. Not in their beliefs, ideologies, politics, military or religion...in that, they were nothing alike. Their physical appearances were what stood out...quarians, up until now, were the only species with hair on their head. But now the humans had come along, and their diversity even outmatched the quarians...whereas quarians only alternated between black and whitish-silver hair, humans had red, black, blonde...a multitude of colors. Their genetic diversity made them especially special: every species in the galaxy had uniform genetics that meant they all had extremely similar conformities that made them look alike. All quarians looked the same due to their suits, but no single human ever looked alike. It was refreshingly different...or so she had heard, having never seen one.

And there, down below her, lay a planet teeming with hundreds, possibly thousands, of them. She was so close to seeing one in person, yet she was stuck up here...with her own people, unable to meet one in the flesh. How boring.

The purpose of the _Rayya_ 's visit was more immediately apparent to her than the humans who lived down below. She may have been a child, but she was not stupid. For a girl of nine years, she was very observant, and she had eavesdropped on quite a few of her parents' discussions. Talk of 'emergency repairs' were had, with the _Rayya_ apparently nearing a possible malfunction in its nutrient vats which could potentially poison the liveship's entire food supply. Only one planet in their immediate vicinity had the supplies and equipment necessary to make the repairs, and so the _Rayya_ , protected by a few other ships, had arrived over this human planet to negotiate a deal to access these desperately needed supplies. Her mother would personally oversee the negotiations as admiral of the Patrol fleet, of which the _Rayya_ was a part of. Her father remained back with the Fleet.

At this very moment, she was frustrated. As excited by the possibilities as she might have been, she was annoyed by her lack of ability to take advantage of them. Here was a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity to explore a human world and see her first alien, not to mention explore a planet by itself, and her mother had instead insisted she remain on the ship, assigning some soldier to watch over her. Her _sey_ was worried for her safety, and didn't trust the inhabitants of this planet enough to risk bringing her child with her. She had argued, but in the end, her mother's decision was final. And now she was waiting back on the ship, her mother currently preparing to depart on her shuttle, with the soldier watching her every move.

Well, he might have been if she hadn't escaped him. Her knowledge went beyond tech, and when she wanted to be mischevious and deceitful, she could be. Tricking the soldier into letting her visit her room under the pretense of escaping him hadn't been too hard: after all, he underestimated her significantly. She was but a child, of course, and so children were easy to look after...and she had used that mentality to slip beneath his notice. Quite frankly, she was surprised he hadn't tracked her down already. It was a big ship, but she hadn't travelled _that_ far.

Her initial reaction to her mother's wishes had been frustration but reluctant acceptance. She didn't like it, but she would never willingly defy her mother's command. As kind and gentle as she could be, her mother could be strict when necessary, and she didn't want to push her too far. Normally, that would be enough to cow her, keeping the energetic quarian in check. She was defiant...but against her mother? The concept seemed impossible for her.

But now things had changed. She was consumed by a new thirst for adventure, for the unknown. That planet, the humans who resided there...so many new, foreign concepts to explore. As much as she loved and obeyed her mother, this hunger was overwhelming, and when she set her mind to something, she very rarely got dissuaded from it. She would consume whatever new information she could at whatever opportunity afforded to her, and that planet...this Mindar...was simply too tempting. She couldn't let this slip. This could be, for all she knew, the only time she got to see a planet like this, or aliens. At least until her pilgrimage, but she couldn't wait that long to get the answers she sought. That was over a decade away...she wanted to know _now_.

It was risky. If her mother discovered her, she'd be in _big_ trouble. But she knew it would be worth it to meet an alien, to rummage around a new, broader world that didn't consist of the same sterile and grimey four walls of a narrow, cramped starship. The risk versus reward was skewed in her curiosity's favor, and for better or worse, that was the course she was set for.

With the shuttle bay not too far away, she knew she needed to act fast if she wanted to stow away onboard it. She'd have to do so without being noticed, but having explored shuttles like that before during her studies, she knew exactly what spaces she could take advantage of to remain hidden.

With a big smirk and a risky plan in mind, the quarian slipped away from the observation window, her mind taken up with devious plans of what she would do once she was down there. She couldn't even make plans...she had no idea what was down there! She would just have to improvize, see what she found!

Excitement ran through her like a drug: a warm, fuzzy feeling that was addicting and suspenseful. She felt giddy, and there was an extra skip to her step as she made her way to the shuttle discreetly, every limb shaking with anticipation.

 _This is going to be fun!_

* * *

Stowing away proved much easier when one was diminutive enough to fit inside an unused storage locker. Which she was.

Sneaking into the shuttle without being noticed had been a simpler affair than one could expect. She had expected it to be difficult to sneak past the soldiers who would be protecting her mother, but she was small, fast and had been around enough of them to know what they looked for. They would not be keeping an eye out for an admiral's rebellious, renegade daughter, and her smaller frame and speed meant they would never catch her doing it either. When she finally got inside...well, her size helped once more in finding an appropriate hiding place. Nobody was going to check an empty locker for intruders, and even if they had the idea: why would they want to? Nobody could fit inside a locker.

Except her, of course. It was a bit cramped though, and the jostling of the craft as it left the ship only made it _that_ much more uncomfortable, but it would be worth it, she reasoned. Even as the ship lifted off the deck and descended towards the planet below, the thrill of knowing that she could get in trouble if she was caught, combined with the anticipation of the learning experiences she would have access to, was filling her up inside with a dizzying anticipation that both worried and excited her. She had spent her entire life up until now living under the protection of her mother and father, relying on them for survival. Being granted this suit...it was the first phase in her rise to independence, and today would be the next step.

A step she would be taking on her own. A small part of her was scared, unsure of what she'd find on this planet, and how she would do without guidance. But that was a very small part, and it was quickly being buried underneath the rising dominance of her curiosity rapidly overpowered it, and it quickly became apparent to her that she simply didn't care. The desperation to see something that differed from the environment of a starship, crewed by noone other than her fellow quarians, was simply too great for her to ignore. No, she was committed completely to this. She would be brave! She was going to prove that she could be brave! She didn't need her parents' permission to explore the world!

She could heard voices from beyond the locker door, although they were muffled and very difficult to make out. There was some footsteps, and if she concentrated hard enough, she could even hear her own mother's voice, although it was faint. To think her mother had no idea her daughter was less than a meter or so from where she was, and didn't even know it. The idea made her smirk grow bigger, biting down on her lower lip to conceal a giggle, trying not to shuffle too much lest she make too much noise.

The shuttle ride from the _Rayya_ to the surface took less than a few minutes, the transition bumpy and not-at-all smooth. Quarians tried their best to keep vehicles like this well maintained and in acceptable operational condition, but there was only so much could do with the resources they had. Even she despaired at the condition of the shuttle, and she was only nine!

Her first indication the flight was over was the sudden stillness that fell over the shuttle. While it wasn't immediately noticeable to the casual observer, she was a quarian, and she had been born and raised on a starship...so she knew what it felt like when a ship was no longer in motion. It also helped that the few, muted voices she could hear before had now stopped completely, filtering out into a few scant whispers before evaporating entirely. This, and this alone, was all the evidence she needed to know that it was now safe to emerge.

So she did, squeezing through the small space until she was able to shove the locker door open. She did so a bit too roughly however, having factored in more momentum than she actually needed, and the result was a small quarian child tumbling from the locker and falling to the ground with a thump, a loud gasp following the action.

Having fallen a very short distance, she was thankful she hadn't suffered any injury beyond a slightly winded composure. Standing up, she wiped herself down, repositioning her ruffled _realk_ , and quickly checking her mask for damage: as her parents had honed into her as a condition for her getting her first suit, protecting her mask from damage was essential to her health. It needed to become instinctual, and so far, it was certainly getting there: she had done it without even thinking about it.

As soon as she was done with that however, another element to her surroundings was already drawing her attention. A thin veil of light shone through her mask, warming her skin with its soft, gentle caress. None of the lighting on the _Rayya_ had this effect on her, and she craned her head to address the source.

It felt as though the breath raced from her lungs in an instant, the brilliant ray of light that breached through the shuttle's open hatch and irradiated the interior being more powerful than any light she had ever seen. There had only been one place she had seen this kind of light before...the same kind that was outputted by Mindar's sun.

 _A sun. Sunlight. Keelah, so this is what it feels like to feel a sun's rays..._

It was...hypnotizing, in a way. As her mask's tinted glass adjusted to the intense light, the blinding flash dissipated to allow her a clearer view of what lay beyond. She wandered forth, each step cautious and delicate, her comparatively small frame allowing her footsteps to be slight and silent. She approached the hatch slowly and tentatively, eyes racing around to grab every iota of detail from her environment as she could.

It was even more beautiful than she could have imagined. She had only seen this place from orbit...to witness it in person was so much greater. The stimuli assaulting her senses was immense: the smell, the sights, the feel...it was almost too much for her to fully appreciate. The area the shuttle had landed in was almost smack dab in the middle of a large clearing, the perimeter surrounded by dense woodland, trees easily over a dozen meters in height sprouting from the ground like the tallest skyscrapers. Their leaves rustled in the light breeze, branches creaking as they swayed back and forth. The woods, looking to go on for kilometers without end, sang with the song of birds and animals that resided within. The sun penetrated through their thick canopy, looking heavenly as they shone through the branches.

The clearing itself was mostly grass and dirt, and not far from where the shuttle had landed, the short and tall buildings of a settlement lay just beyond the threshold. Small stubby blocks were accompanied by tall spires, all of them coming together to form concrete-and-steel jungles of civilization. No doubt that's where the humans lived, the structures looking distinctly different from that produced by what she had seen in historical examples of quarian architecture. Her eyes widened at the sight, and her hands shook and legs trembled as she thought about wandering through those streets, seeing all the humans who lived and worked there on a daily basis. Such thoughts kept her distracted.

So distracted that she failed to notice the people just a few meters from where she stood that could now see her standing out in the open, figure poised prominently in the shuttle's entranceway, not even attempting to be discreet. A fact that the quarian noticed far too late.

"You didn't tell me you were bringing a child with you!"

"Sir, I can assure you, we-excuse me? A child?"

"Right there!"

The raised voices was enough to snap the little girl out of her marvel, and she looked down to see a less than fortunate sight. She had failed to account for the fact that the meeting her mother would be holding would be conducted _right outside the shuttle_. As a result, a large grouping of her people, their backs facing the shuttle, stood just beyond its open hatch, with the humans they were meeting, most likely the settlement's leaders, standing before them. Her mother, whose blue-purple Zorah _realk_ (blue being the color of an important official, purple that of someone with the engineering occupation) immediately identified her to the girl, was at the front with six soldiers accompanying her, people she called 'marines'. Infront of her was the human leader with four of his own soldiers, although they looked to be wearing funny-looking suits of their own, theirs blue-and-black. Black was the color of the academics, scholars and historians in quarian society: those whose task it was to keep and maintain the historical records, as well as educate their children. That only made their appearance all the funnier, as she was pretty sure these soldiers should be wearing red...not blue and black.

The human was a male, wearing no helmet or suit of any kind. It was then that she realized she was getting her first view of what an alien looked like: their face brazenly and unashamedly naked for all to see. The other humans were all covered and suited, their faces even more obscure than that of her own people. But this human...he wore odd-looking clothes, and their five-fingered hands and five-toed feet, straight legs and...was that hair on their chin? It frightened her...until she reminded herself these weren't just quarians with physical deformities. It still seemed bizarre to her though...and while she didn't get long to contemplate it, the hair on his chin just made them look barbaric in appearance...no quarian male had a face like that.

Right now though, that strange face was looking right at her, eyes narrowed and mouth scrunched up in a grimace. Humans may have been alien, and she had not seen many faces, but if there was one universal constant, it was disgust. And this human was _not_ happy.

Her mother spun around to address the human leader's exclamation, and her eyes widened upon locking with that of her daughter. All eyes, human and quarian alike, landed on the little girl...and she felt in that moment like she was being regarded under a very narrow microscope.

Her mother's response was understandable, "Wha- _what are you doing here!?_ "

The game was up, and she was being made fully aware of that. In the few precious seconds she had before her mother's soldiers would be moving to apprehend her, she had enough time to think about what to do. Would she stand here and allow herself to be taken back to the _Rayya_ , depriving herself of the chance to see more of this planet and what it contained? Or would she take action...run away, and evade her mother long enough to discover what this planet held? The choice seemed obvious. The consequences she was going to suffer for this were great enough...they'd be much worse if she pressed the issue.

But as it always did with excited, knowledge-hungry children like her...defiance ran in her blood, and this was simply too much to resist.

One of the quarian soldiers reached out to grab her arm...she didn't let him.

Pulling her arm back, she pivoted on her foot and leapt from the shuttle hatch...and landed with a crunch of dirt as her three-toed feet landed perfectly on the grass below, her legs perfectly built to absorb a landing of this nature. She smiled with pride at the action, having accomplished it for the first time in her life without even trying, but that elation wore off faster than she would have liked when her mother shouted at her to come back, and she was returned to her present reality. Not even looking behind her, she made off at a sprint, evading another soldier's attempts to restrain her. With her superior speed, her pace went outmatched as she made straight for the nearby treeline, exhilration and adrenaline coursing through her veins as the erudition of coming that much closer to her goal reared in her head.

It was so great that even her mother's pleas for her to stop and return, booming over the large area and echoing through the trees, were not enough to stay her feet. She could hear footsteps rushing after her, more voices yelling out for her to stop. This only furthered her motions, and within seconds, she reached the trees, dashing into the bushes and ignoring the slashing of the branches as they slashed against her, the impacts felt across her suit. But due to her size, the bushes were more than enough to conceal her, and she quickly disappeared into the forests of Mindar, her path clear and goal firmly in mind.

She was going to that settlement. And she was going to learn more. About this planet, about the humans who lived here, about planetary life in general. She would know it all, and only then would she allow her mother to take her back to the _Rayya_.

 _Let them try and stop me!_

She was gone, the soldiers aimlessly shoving aside branches as their eyes scanned for the admiral's child that didn't want to be found. By the time they realized they had lost her, she was long past their visual range, the quarian navigating the undergrowth quite deftly, like someone who had lived there for years. She was smart enough to know she should avoid going deeper within the forest...she kept to the treeline, always keeping the green clearing in sight so she didn't get lost.

By the time they found her...she'd know everything she wanted to know. That much she was determined to ensure.

* * *

As she continued along the timberline, her breath caught up with her and she began to pant heavily, her legs and arms sore from both the exertion and abuse that the needle-like branches and occasional stumble inflicted upon her body. This environment was so foreign to her that navigating it was a daunting task by itself, and without any adults to lead the way, she was having to learn fast. A good thing she kept to the perimeter of clearing, at least. Getting lost would only make her situation worse.

Mother's soldiers had long since stopped pursuing her, likely having lost her the moment she disappeared into the bushes. She grinned at her success, knowing that this meant she could now turn her attentions from avoiding capture to actually setting out to do what she planned. The only problem was that she hardly knew where to begin. There was just so much she wanted to explore!

Not watching where she was going, a trap she found herself frankly falling into far too often, her foot got caught on a rock and she tripped once again, her forward momentum carrying her through a particularly large bush, the leaves a dazzling display of red and their stems looking like they could blend in with them. She didn't get to admire much more than that before she was through the bush, blunt and prickly wooden arms once again clawing at her savagely as she moved past, ripping and tearing at her _realk_ , which by now had so many holes in it that it was about on par with shredded paper.

She was surprised when she tripped out from the bush into a much more open area, the absence of moist dirt and further undergrowth the first indicator that gave this away. As she recovered and picked out bits of wood chippings that had got stuck in her hood however, she looked up to find that it was more than just that: it looked to be an actual path. Small, interconnected perimeter lanterns lined it from beginning to end, likely to illuminate during night.

Looking to her right, she could see that the path lead back to the main settlement, and she awed at the immensity of it up close. She thought the trees were tall...but some of these buildings eclipsed even them. She simply couldn't wait to walk through them, see what was inside them! What did humans consider living quarters? Did they have decontamination rooms, like quarians did? Where and how did they sleep? What did they eat? Did they have chairs? And what kind of transportation did they-

Jarringly, her thoughtful ruminations and salivating dissemination was interrupted as her hearing picked up on a new sound. Not the sound of skycars flying by. Not that of humans chattering or, as she initially feared, the voices of mother's soldiers searching for her. No, the sound was far more innocent than that. More familiar, welcoming. It sounded like...yelling. But not the angry kind, not like the one father used when he was angry with her. She recognized this type of yelling...it was the sound of enjoyment. Of fun. Of carefree serenity.

It was the sound of children playing.

She turned to her left, the gravel-laced trail stretching out a little further until ending at another clearing further to the west, not far from the main colony. The quarian couldn't see much from where she stood, but she could see flashes of little bodies moving around, running and skipping and congregating. They were small, fast and their voices not at all reminiscent of the deep tones that matured adults had. These were definitely children, and they seemed to be playing...were they human children?

Her previous fascination with the colony was gone, replaced by a new interest. She had spent so much time fixated on what humans and their lifestyles were like, that she failed to consider the most alluring aspect of them all: their children. She herself was a child, so why would alien children _not_ fascinate her? Did they have similar interests? What was their lives like? Were they born and put into bubbles too? Did they have the same requirements as quarian children?

There was no turning back now. Once she decided her interests lay elsewhere, it was difficult to persuade her otherwise. Twsiting on the spot, she marched towards the opposite end of the trail, balling her hands into fists and moving with purpose. Large strides were made, and with them more and more distance was put between her and the settlement, and the closer she got to seeing how the other half lived.

She soon got her wish.

What she saw was unlike anything she had ever personally witnessed as a child. She stood there, agape, at the fork in the path that ended in the second clearing, gazing upon what looked to be a playground of some sort. Quarians had similar setups on their ships for young children too underdeveloped to begin education straight away, but nothing on this scale. The clearing continued for at least two dozen or so meters, with a large perimeter fence walling it off from the outside, and the same gravel as the one the path was made from making up the surface floor. The playground itself was founded ontop of a wooden slab, with bark and sand making up the softened bed. Inside this playground were slides, chain reattle bridges, bars that some of the children seemed to be using to climb across, and so much more.

As for the human children who benefitted from this personal playroom of theirs, there were many of them. A dozen of them, boys and girls, laughed and giggled as they made use of the facilities available to them. Others looked to get rough with each other, and two boys were rolling around in the bark, cuts and scrapes adorning their cheeks, as they grunted and weakly slapped each other, group gathering around them to watch, cheering them on. The larger child quickly gained the advantage over the other, holding the other one down until he tapped the ground to indicate he had yielded: the other boys cheered, patting the larger human on the back. Nearby, one of the girls was crying and shouting at another who seemed to be using a piece of equipment she wanted. The girl poked her tongue out, mocking the other girl's misery. This only intensified the amount of tears output by the other girl, who simply stomped a foot, hands falled into fists at her sides and fixing her adversary with a glare of absolute venom.

This was not foreign to her. Quarian boys fought all the time, and complaining over the usage of equipment and toys was commonplace, although sharply punished in all respects. Father taught her that quarians couldn't afford to seek about themselves, and always had to think about the whole. Fights over what children deemed to be 'theirs' were often followed up with lessons in civility and acceptance of joint-possession. What these children were doing here...she couldn't imagine what a quarian parent would do. She didn't want to even contemplate it.

The playground wasn't the only entertainment at their disposal. Further up, and quite puzzingly to her, she could see a dozen more children kicking a black-and-white checkered ball around a grass field, with what looked to be parents shouting at them supportingly from the sidelines. She didn't understand that at all, and she realized the more she tried to understand it, the less she actually did. In the end, she huffed, her frown never once dissipating as she regarded the rather odd looking human activity. Despite this however, she found she really couldn't take her eyes off it, mesmerized by the humans who danced around the field, looking like they were competing against each other as they fought over the ball almost possessively. And even more confusingly, they looked like they were refusing to use their hands!

 _Doesn't make any sense..._

"Hey there," came a voice from her side, the owner's approach a surprise and totally unexpected.

Startled, she flinched and jumped on the spot, spinning to face the person that seemed to appear from nowhere, no footsteps to telegraph their approach having been heard. Focused as she was on the ball game the humans nearby were playing, she must have lost focus, a problem she was temporarily worried had allowed her mother's men to find her.

But that wasn't the case at all. This person was much too small to be a soldier, and their voice far too immature to possibly be misconstrued as adult. In fact, she recognized the human boy standing before her as the one who had dominated during a fight with another boy earlier on, the same one that had been celebrated for his victory. He was quite tall compared to the other children, and she found herself having to look up slightly to meet his eyes, which shone a gentle but intense blue. He had a full head of raven black hair, which was now ruffled and sprinkled with dirt from his fight. His white skin had a small scratch on his cheek that oozed the tiniest trickle of dried blood, and another one could be found just under his jaw, both obscured by the dirt that caked his face. He had small lips, which were currently spread in an equally tiny, but inviting smile.

The human was in pretty decent shape, with not an ounce of fat to be found anywhere on his body. Nothing like the boy he had been battling before, who was overtly chubby and quite small compared to him. Despite the sight of this though, she found herself feeling oddly protected and safe underneath that warm gaze, and relaxed a bit. She didn't feel as though she was in danger, and the child's demeanour even seemed...inviting.

"Oh...uh...hey," she stuttered back, still recovering from her surprise at the boy's appearance.

"You one of those quarians?" he asked bluntly, his smile only widening, "I've never met a quarian before."

"Oh...well..." she hated that she was acting like this all of a sudden, especially now that she had an actual human talking to her, but no matter how much she tried to fight it, but now that the opportunity was standing before her, seeking out discourse with her directly...she fell apart, hands wringing at her waist as she fought to keep her eyes locked with his, resisting the urge to look away with embarassment, "yes...I'm...yes, I'm a...q-quarian."

Picking up on her awkwardness, almost like he could read her body language despite being a child himself, the human boy's smile only widened, "Sorry about how I look. Miles bad-mouthed by sister the other day so I had to teach him a lesson. You don't need to be afraid of me. Harmless as a fly, as my mama likes to say. I'll keep you safe, since your parents don't seem to be around. What's your name?"

Despite her initial worries in being approached by this ruffian-looking boy, his words seemed to calm a part of her that she wasn't aware needed soothing. Everything about him seemed to convey the utmost sincerity, and while she wasn't even close to being an expert in human facial ticks, she just felt like this was the case. She couldn't exactly complain either, as he was her first human interaction on this planet...in fact, in her entire life. She wanted to make the most of it.

Shaking off her apprehension, she smiled behind her mask, holding out her hands in the traditional quarian greeting her mother had taught her: hands with palms facing inwards, fingers splayed out to touch those of the person they were greeting, "My name is Tali. Tali'Zorah nar Rayya."

Perceivably ignoring her greeting, he reached out and grasped her right hand and shook it delicately, Tali's other hand hanging in the air dumbly as she stared at the action. The human flashed a toothy grin, pearly white teeth bared in a way that allowed Tali to confirm that humans did indeed have another physical similarity to quarians: while their teeth weren't molars like theirs, quarian teeth were a mixture of both molar and canine, which suited their lifestyle of being omnivorous, "You can call me Johnny. Only my mum calls me John."

Tali frowned at that, lowering her hands after the human completed shaking her hand, cocking her head to the side, "You don't have a clan name?"

It was his turn to frown, although he also did this thing with his eyebrows where he raised one and left the other where it was. It looked funny, and she couldn't help but stiffle a giggle underneath her mask, biting down on her lower lip so she didn't laugh, not sure how the human would react to being mocked, "A what? What's a clan name?"

Wringing her fingers again, she inevitably got lost in an explanation, a habit she was used to in her quest for information. The more you learnt, the more you wanted to tell everyone what you learnt, and the feeling was quite empowering, even to a quarian such as herself, "Well, clan names are what my people delegate to those who are part of a certain clan. I was born into Clan Zorah, so my name is Tali'Zorah."

Johnny raised a finger, mouth opening in realization, "Ah! I know what you mean! Family names! You're talking about family names!"

"Uh...yes, I g-guess I am," she hesitantly confirmed.

"Wow, didn't know so many things were different between us. That's cool," he laughed, reaching forward to tap her shoulder. She normally would have objected to such a motion, as quarians envied their personal space, but with how kind and jovial this human was, she found herself oddly okay with it, and didn't flinch back from it as she initially expected to out of instinct, "Well, my family name is Shepard. Apparently I'm related to the guy who was involved in the first moon landing, so that's pretty cool."

Tali nodded, laughing lightly. The more her conversation continued with this human, the more comfortable she was, feeling her awkwardness slowly ebbing away the longer she spoke with him. She didn't even bother to ask why this boy had just randomly chosen to walk up to and start talking with her, and why he wasn't questioning her presence here. Perhaps he didn't care...or maybe he just saw her alone and wanted to make her feel included?

Their conversation, as it was, seemed to continue for hours. Questions were thrown back and forth and they quickly entered into a walk towards the edge of the clearing, still talking as they went. Then they sat down on a large tree trunk, which looked to have been cut down recently and left to rest there until those who deforested it came to retrieve it for whatever purpose they intended it for. Tali and Johnny used it to sit down, constantly regaling each other with an assault of new information. Both of them had a lot to benefit from this exchange of information, so they went at it. Tali would ask what human childhood was like, and Johnny would ask her how it felt to live in a suit. Each question helped in understanding the other, and slowly, the two were becoming so comfortable with each other that it was almost like they were old friends. And according to Johnny, there was only a year's difference between them...he was ten, eleven in two weeks, while she only just turned nine.

She thought of what her friend Kal back on the _Rayya_ would think of him. _Kal would like Johnny. They're both tough, and from what Johnny has told me, they both want to be soldiers one day._

Occasionally other children would notice Tali and come over to ask their own questions. Tali was apparently quite the topic for discussion, because word quickly spread around of her presence and more and more came to ask questions, eager to know more about her people. She must have seemed so alien to them...just as they seemed alien to her. She was all too eager to teach them.

Of course, there was always that one child(ren) who wasn't so nice. Some were abusive and confrontational, and some even asked questions were deliberately designed to make a mockery of her. Some were downright rude, and others were hateful. She didn't understand why they were so mean to her, and what she had done to earn their distrust, but it ultimately didn't matter. Johnny had taken it upon himself to be her protector, and everytime he spoke, all the children listened. This told Tali that he was well respected among his peers, and from the occasional flinch or hastened retreat of the meaner children...he was also feared. Johnny wasn't the eldest among them, but nobody seemed willing to push the line with him around, and anybody who pointed intentionally odious comments her way were quickly put in their place.

This only endeared her to him all the more. She had known this boy for a grand total of maybe two hours, and yet he was already standing up for her like a childhood friend he'd known for years. She even heard some of the girls theorizing amongst themselves as to Johnny's protectiveness...and Tali blushed at hearing some of them, the mere thought of them causing her to shiver disgustingly.

 _He wouldn't...I wouldn't...ew! He's a boy! That sort of thing is...it's just...wrong! Yuck!_

Johnny had apparently concluded the same as her, because when one of the girls started singing a song about it, the boy simply crossed his arms and laughed at them, making it clear that Tali was a newcomer to their planet and he was simply doing what his father told him to do: never make aliens feel unwelcome, and always offer them comfort when it looks like they need it. Tali smiled at him, thinking about how nice his father seemed.

 _My father is always suspicious of aliens. He hates them for what they did to us after the war with the machines._

However, the fun wasn't too last. The one problem with drawing so much attention to yourself was that word spread very quickly, and on a quarian ship, that meant a secret being whispered to one person could potentially spread to the entire crew within a solar day. Quarians were a highly social race, so they liked to talk. Apparently humans held this trait to some degree as well, because three hours later, knowledge of her presence reached beyond the settlement...and then adults got involved. Apparently one particularly nasty child didn't like her so much that he went straight to his parents...

...and unfortunately for Tali, that kid's father turned out to be the human her mother had been trying to negotiate with.

This became apparent to her when the quarian looked past Johnny to the trail, finding six human soldiers, followed by the human leader, entering the play area. With them was her mother, along with her own soldiers. And Tali with her purple veil and envirosuit stood out like a sore thumb amongst the throng of clothed, unmasked children that surrounded her. It took them next to no time to find her.

"Oh no!" she gasped, hand rising over her vocalizer, "That's my mum!"

"Oh..." Johnny muttered, looking at the approaching group of adults, before turning back to look at her, "And...that's bad?"

"Yes...I...uh..." Tali began to stutter again, realizing the seriousness of what she was about to disclose to this human she hadn't even known existed yesterday, "...I'm not...really...not really supposed to be...here. My mum told me to stay on the ship, but...I couldn't resist! I wanted to explore your planet! But my mum wouldn't listen, so...I snuck onto her shuttle. Now she wants to take me back."

"Damn," Johnny exclaimed, nodding to her explanation. She had expected him to agree with her mother and share in her anger, especially now that he knew he was speaking to a stowaway, but he didn't seem particularly bothered by this revelation and, instead, he turned back to her, a mischevious grin on his face, "...and are you ready to leave yet?"

She hesitated to answer that, wringing her fingers a bit. Seeing the group of adults getting closer, her heart beat a bit faster, "Not...not really..."

Suddenly, his larger, five-fingered hand grabbed one of hers, and her eyes shot up to lock with his. His grin grew wider, reaching from cheek to cheek, and she saw a wicked glint in his eyes.

"Time to run then."

She should have said no. She'll just get in trouble. She didn't know this boy or what his intentions were! But when she saw the look in his eyes, and remembered how protective he had been of her, she realized one thing: this boy was never going to hurt her. She could trust him.

So when he said to run, she ran.

Footsteps raced after them, the children that were now being left behind them shouting at them...not in taunt, but in encouragement. The adults shouted a different tune however...orders to stop were ignored and not heeded, and as a result, the adults broke into a run, chasing after them with intent to capture.

Johnny held her hand as the two of them dashed towards an opening in the fence, a small sliver of chain-link that had been cut open, allowing for a small flap that could be pushed aside. Johnny did exactly this, holding it up long enough for Tali to squeeze through. Once the quarian was through, he let the flap fall back down, and not a moment too soon either. The human guards reached them at the last second, grunting as they hit the fence, unable to proceed. The gap was only small enough for children to slip through, and was far too tiny for a large, armoured human to crawl through.

Johnny chuckled as he ran up to join her, motioning for the quarian to follow him. Despite seeing her mother yelling at her to stop, and the frenzied attempts of the soldiers to get her to do just that, she found Johnny's infectious enjoyment of their predicament to be rubbing off on her, because she too began to laugh right alongside him, her giggles mixing with his chuckles as the two disappeared into the forest, Tali making sure to stick behind Johnny the entire way.

Tali had never had so much fun in all her life. The thrill of the pursuit, the exhilration of actually speaking to an alien and befriending them...she knew she was in big trouble, but she couldn't help but find the concept...exciting. She had never felt so alive! Large open clearings, alien children who were interested in what she had to say, forests of natural formation...the live of a starship was so barren and uninteresting by comparison!

She didn't want to ever leave!

* * *

The two of them spent another hour navigating the woods, Johnny's expert wayfinding allowing them through without so much as a hassle. Along the way the two of them slowed down, having sufficiently outrun their pursuers, and fell back into conversation again. They talked about more personal issues...ones closer to the heart. What their parents were like, the experiences they had when they were younger, what it was like to be a quarian and a human...the answers they got were insightful, and humbling.

Moving past a grouping of particularly narrow trees, Johnny's feet crunching a root underneath his boots, a particular question led Johnny's smile to weaken a little, the human regarding her with some sadness, "That's really sad, Tali. That you have to live in those suits. I get sick all the time, but I always get better...but I don't have to wear a suit. You do. And your face...you're not allowed to show it to anyone?"

She shook her head with some melancholy, looking at him with a sad smile upon her lips, "Only to people I love, mother says. It's an extremely important gesture of trust. It's very risky and dangerous. I'm not even allowed to remove my own mask yet, only my parents can allow that."

"Wow," Johnny muttered solemnly. Despite his childish and mischievious disposition most of the time, he actually seemed to take this information seriously, which only served to surprise Tali even more. He didn't make light of her condition, or deflect it with a joke. No smile was present, no indication that he was making fun of her. He was silent, and made full attention to her whenever she spoke. It was the kind of maturity that exceeded his young age, the type she wouldn't have expected from someone like him. He licked his lips, eyes watching her astutely, almost like he was trying to gauge his response to be as respectful as possible, "I'm sorry. That really sucks."

"Yeah..." she sighed. The two stepped from the woods and finally arrived back at the path she had found not too long ago, the one that had led her to her first meeting with Johnny. It was a path she would remember well, especially considering the unexpected fellowship she would forge with this child she never knew would be so kind to her. She turned to him, head slightly cocked to the side, "You know Johnny, I'm...glad I met you. You've been so kind to me. You don't even know me."

Johnny just smiled, "I saw a kid, not much younger than me,who was all alone amongst aliens. Like my dad said, it was my duty to make you feel welcome."

Tali just tittered, "It's...more than that, Johnny. You stood up for me, fought off other kids when they bullied me. You helped me escape those soldiers when they came for me. At that point, you had no reason to defend me. I'm in the wrong. But still...you helped me get away. Why? Why are you being so nice to me?"

He gulped, and for the first time since she met him, the tables had finally turned: his cheeks flushed a bright red, and he looked away awkwardly, almost like he was no longer able to look at her. She was no expert at human expressions, to be sure, and she still couldn't understand the many mannerisms Johnny used to communicate with her...but when it came to embarassment and body language, she could identify that. And the quick shuffle of his feet, the nervous rubbing at the back of his neck, the blush in his cheeks...Johnny was embarassed.

"I mean...I..." he stuttered for once, lips quivering as he tried to mouth a response he found a appropriate. After a moment he threw his hands up in the air, slapping them against his pants almost entirely like he had given up trying to justify his decision, "I...I don't really know, actually. You just seem really nice. And you're the first girlfriend I've ever had, so there's that too..."

It was her turn to blush, hands wringing once more at her waist. Eyes widening, he snapped to look back at her, holding his hand up placatingly.

There it was! He was blushing again. Keelah, he actually looked sorta cute when he did that...

"That...now that sounded really...bad..." he tried to argue, stumbling over his own words, "I meant a girl who is a friend...not a girlfriend, literally...that's...uh...yeah, that's not what I meant...like, at all, promise."

She giggled, her own embarassment wearing off as she reached out and grasped his shoulder, squeezing it to reassure him in a measure she learnt from her mother, "It's okay, Johnny. Don't be embarassed."

He continued rubbing the back of his neck intermittently, his blush only intensifying as he stumbled further into his own mental trap, "I just...I don't want you to get the...well, the wrong idea...I just think you're a nice person, that's all...a really good friend actually, even though I've only known you for like a few hours..."

"I feel the same, Johnny," she replied, reassuring him, "You're a good friend. I wish we could spend more time together, but my mum is eventually going to find me."

She smiled warmly at him, wishing that he could see it. In that moment, a really stupid, foolish idea took root in her mind, and even her inquisitive mind had to question the wisdom of it. An inkling of a thought that it was, it was still pondered for far too long in her mind, and the more it remained there, the more that temptation grew.

The more time they spent together, the more she realized the revelation of truth that her mind was gradually beginning to accept as reality. This human she had befriended, who had treated her well and seen fit to take her under his wing...there was a deeper feeling that had been held back for a bit, her inability to accept it as being true at this stage in her life keeping it locked behind a firm barrier. But now that barrier was crumbling, and an epiphany hit her. One that left her wide-eyed and scared, but not out of trepidation...but because she had no idea what to do with such an emotion. She didn't think it was possible, but the impossible had indeed happened.

She had a crush on Johnny.

How could she not? Sure, he wasn't even a quarian, but he had all the hallmarks of what girls would find attractive in boys. He was cute, admittedly handsome...brave, strong, caring...keelah, she really did have a crush on him! Argh! She should be disgusted at the mere thought of habouring such feelings towards a boy, but she couldn't help it!

What's worse...was that she thinks Johnny felt the same about her. If his verbal slip-ups and the way he took to befriending her so quickly, especially to the point of getting himself into trouble by helping her escape his people's soldiers...the way he seemed so protective of her, and the way he seemed loathe to admit how he felt about their companionship...the signs were there. Even Tali could see that.

But crushes were delicate affairs, her mother warned her. They didn't necessarily lead someone true. Mother had many crushes during her childhood and adolescence, yet her father hadn't even been the first one. Tali had no idea whether or not her crush on Johnny would actually amount to anything, but she couldn't but acknowledge just how strange it was that her first one ended up being a human she hardly knew. But what she couldn't deny is that it felt right...that Johnny was her first crush. That a boy whose kindness to her exceeded what he immediately owed to her as a stranger would end up being the first she'd have these kind of feelings for.

But having a crush was the least of her problems. Having a crush wasn't foolish, it was natural, like her mother said. It was nerve-wracking, and she was sure it was the same for Johnny, but the foolish notion that was becoming rooted into her head, and which was gaining a startling amount of momentum, was what her mother had said about her mask, and the occasions when it was okay to remove it.

Johnny, totally unaware of the thought she was entertaining, turned away from her for a second to look down the path towards the playground, trying to ascertain if the adults looking for them had thought to double back yet. He remained entirely unaware of what was going on behind him, even failing to hear the hiss of air being released behind, as faint as it was with the sound of the trees rustling drowning it out, leaving Johnny none the wiser. By the time he turned back around to face her again, he had no earthly idea of what was waiting for him.

He stood there, paralyzed and eyes wide, as for the first time in his life he became, quite possibly, the first human to gaze upon a quarian's unmasked face.

She held her breath, cheeks puffing outwards as a result, hoping that doing so would stop her from getting sick. Mother said open-air exposure is what made quarians sick, so if she wasn't breathin in any air, she couldn't get sick! That way she could show her face to someone she trusts, and she'll be perfectly fine!

The quarian held her mask in her hand, using the omni-tool program she had created to override her mother's parental control switch, allowing her to remove her mask. She shivered as the breeze washed over her smooth grey skin, and she began to shy away slightly as Johnny's glassy gaze fixed on her, totally entranced with what he was seeing. He was seeing her in a whole different light, and she had the deep seeded wish that she could read his mind so she knew what he was thinking, or that he would just say something to alleviate the concern that was growing with each second he took to respond.

Tears welled in her eyes as a full minute passed without answer, and she began to wonder if he found her disgusting. She thought she was similiar enough to humans that he would like her face, but she must have been wrong. She began to regret removing the mask, and moved to put it back on when Johnny suddenly reached forward and grabbed her arm, staying her movement. She looked back up at him, worried.

"You're very pretty," he finally stated, eyes full of child-like wonder, "I don't know what those other kids are talking about. You look pretty to me."

She didn't think about what she did next: she just did it. She reached forward, and kissed him on the cheek, quickly pulling back like she had been hit across the face. Her cheeks reddened bright blue, spitting a little as some of the dirt on his cheek got stuck to her small lips, and the two of them blinked as they tried to comprehend exactly what had happened. The two of them simply stood there, dumbfounded: Tali, with her cheeks puffed and still holding her breath, and Johnny, holding a hand to his cheek and puzzled by what had just transpired.

Deciding it would be best to put her mask back on, Tali motioned to do just that, and was half way to putting it back on when she heard rapid footsteps approaching from behind Johnny, followed by a booming voice that she recognized instantly, and felt immediate dread in hearing. Her stomach lurched, and she hesitated in putting her mask back on as she heard, _then_ saw it.

"TALI! PUT YOUR MASK BACK ON RIGHT NOW, YOU SILLY CHILD!"

 _Uh-oh..._

A dumb exclamation that defined an understatement.

Swooping in like a mother hen, Tali's mother descended upon her with a speed she had never seen anyone move at before, poor Johnny almost shoved to the side in the admiral's haste to protect her child. Crouched at Tali's side, the intensity of her expression felt even behind her mask, she snatched up Tali's mask one second and then sheathed it back over her face another, clicking it back into place: only then did Tali allow herself to breathe, and she was definitely grateful for the respite it offered.

"Foolish _bosh'to me'tes ak_! I'm not even going to bother asking how you got this off, but I can tell you that you're in _a lot_ of trouble young lady! What were you thinking, sneaking off like that!? You could have been hurt, possibly even...I don't want to even think about it! Stupid, stupid, stupid little girl! You scared me...and your mask...you removed your mask! You're going to get sick now! Keelah, keelah, keelah, keelah..."

She wrapped her arms around Tali, pressing the smaller girl against her chest possessively. Tali thought it prudent to return it, especially given the state her mother was in right now, her mother's body surprisingly jerky and trembling like someone with a severe cold. She patted her mother's back, her voice a low whisper, "It's okay, mum...I held my breath, I'll be fine."

Her mother only laughed in return, something Tali didn't expect but welcomed from the angry woman, pulling back to hold her daughter at arm's length, "Holding your breath...you silly girl, that's not how exposure works...I told you never to take your mask off for anyone..."

"...except for people I love and trust," Tali finished, "I know, mum."

As if remembering the person who had unwittingly persuaded Tali to her foolish course of action, her mother whirled to face him, likely preparing a barrage of chastizements that she would suffer upon the young boy, determined to make him feel her wrath. But when she turned around, both mother and daughter both were surprised to find Johnny was gone, leaving no trail of where he was or where he went. Behind her, the soldiers, human and quarian, arrived in short order.

But Johnny was nowhere to be found...at least not until her mother picked up Tali and held her in her arms as she was carried back towards the shuttle. Many minutes later, upon returning to the ship with Tali still in her arms, her mother had just mounted the main hatch, which was in the process of closing, when Tali looked over her shoulder, and saw a single, solitary figure in the middle of the clearing, waving at her.

Smiling, she waved back excitedly, "Goodbye Johnny!"

Drawn by her daughter's goodbye, she turned to see the lone human waving at Tali. If she had any complaints, she said nothing...merely standing still and allowing her daughter to continue waving until the hatch had closed, shutting off Tali's view of Johnny. She felt said that she didn't get to spend more time with her new human friend, and she didn't even know if she would ever get a chance to see him again, and that thought plagued her all the way back to the _Rayya_.

* * *

The unfortunate truth made itself brutally clear sooner than one would expect. Six days after the _Rayya_ 's visit to Mindoir (not Mindar, as she had originally believed it was spelt and pronounced but Mindoir)...the planet was attacked in a batarian slaver raid, and every one on the planet was either killed or captured to be sold as slaves. Even the children weren't spared the batarian's cruelty.

Upon hearing the news from her mother, the reality didn't hit her for at least a couple days. After that, she returned to her cubicle, asked if Johnny was with his ancestors now and, upon her mother's nod of the head, she broke down into her mother's arms, and sobbed uncontrollably.

She would always remember Johnny Shepard pav Mindoir. He was gone, and she would never see him again, but she would always remember him as her first, and thus far only, crush...and her first alien friend. Even as she grew older and more mature, she looked back on that encounter with a grim happiness, and when she finally set out on her pilgrimage, she used her experience with Johnny as a benchmark from what to expect. And it had served her well, despite all the racism she ran into and the horrors she faced.

But a few childhood lessons were hardly enough to prepare her for what she faced. She never expected, for instance, that she would be the victim of a galaxy-wide hunt to claim her life. How, you might ask? Because she uncovered information proving the existence of a galactic conspiracy to bring back a race of hyper-advanced machines known as the Reapers ostensibly responsible for wiping out the protheans, which was spearheaded by a famed and respected turian Council spectre and his army of geth. This evidence made her a threat to this conspiracy, and she soon found her pilgrimage devolving into a fight for survival. She was chased across the galaxy, until finally being cornered on the Citadel, forced to make a deal with a slimy crime lord in exchange for her safety from the spectre's assassins.

But it wasn't to be. The crime lord, who claimed to work for the Broker, was paid off by Saren Arterius, the spectre hunting her, and he had defected to him. Assassins cornered her in an alleyway, and now she was hiding behind a crate, armed with nothing but a shotgun and a pistol, surrounded on all sides by mercenaries whose sole intent was to put a bullet in her head and dump her corpse in a nameless grave where she would never be seen again.

Crouched behind the crate, her shotgun readied and in her hands, she found herself oddly accepting of her fate. She had done all she could to survive, and even the sharp pain of the wound in her shoulder, inflicted by the first attempt by an assassin to kill her with pulonium rounds, was not enough to make her despair. She had been forced to sacrifice her marine escort, Keenah, just to kill that same assassin, and just when she thought she was going to be safe, more danger awaited her. The evidence she had simply made her too dangerous to too many people. They weren't going to let her walk away, even if she destroyed it.

This spot would be the place she died in. She didn't cry. She didn't pray to the Ancestors to save her. She only thought of Johnny, and how her first human friend died a cruel death that he didn't deserve, and how she wished they could have grown up together. She thought of her mother, who died of a shipborne viral outbreak only two months after Mindoir. She thought of her father, whose distance only grew with every passing day, her mother's death causing him to resort to more and more drastic means of raising his child every day. She didn't know if he even loved her anymore. He wasn't even there to see her off on her pilgrimage: only Auntie Raan and Uncle Gerrel did. She had lost so much, suffered too much.

So when she heard the mercenaries approaching from the side, she was ready to accept her fate. She would not die meekly, of course...she'd die with as many of their bodies at her feet as possible, shotgun in hand. Just as she liked to picture that Johnny went out: killing as many batarians as he could, the soldier that he had wanted to be, but now never would be. She thought of him, smiled, and cocked her katana shotgun, loading a carnage round straight into the chamber.

But just as she steeled herself to die in a blaze of glory, she heard gunfire...and just when she thought it was over, that they had opened fire on her position, she heard bodies flop to the ground, followed by shouts of alarm. Confused, she decided it was worth the risk to poke her head out of cover, keeping her shotgun close by so that she could whip it up at a moment's notice.

She needn't have bothered.

Just as she turned the corner, a salarian fell to the ground, a bullet drilled through his skull and his green blood and brains splattered across the musty, dank floor of the alley. His pistol clattered to his side, and even now she could see that the mercenaries were now retreating away from her, opening fire at new opponents coming from the left. The turian was wide-eyed, switching to his shotgun in a hurry as he began to panic. Seconds later...she saw why as a krogan, decked head-to-toe in vein red armor, charged out of nowhere, barrelling into the merc before he got his weapon up and slamming him into a wall. The sound of bones shattering upon impact made Tali cringe instinctively, and she could only watch as the krogan grasped the turian's throat and ripped it out, all in the same motion, blue blood geysering over the krogan warrior's face as the merc's cries turned into strangled gurgles. The krogan tossed his body to the side, discarding it like a toy he was done playing with.

The battle was over in seconds. The rest of the mercs were annihilated, none surviving to fully withdraw. The manner in which they were so readily dispatched was dizzying, their numbers picked apart with a surgical precision that could only be pulled off by a professional unit...so professional that it simply had to be military.

Hesitant to immediately address her saviors, and given her track record with how she went from threat to threat, she decided to wait and watch. The krogan called out to his commander, telling him the area was clear before walking up to a still twitching salarian and...Tali wanted to puke as she watched the krogan so callously crush the merc's head underneath his boot, bone fragments exploding outwards at such a rapid rate that they momentarily became kinetic projectiles. A loud squelch was heard, the krogan flicking his boot to discard it of excess viscera. Tali couldn't even look at the remains of the salarian's head...it made her nauseous. Such brutality only convinced her that her hesitance was the best idea at the time.

A turian emerged now, although he wore the cobalt blue armor of a C-Sec officer, a tactical eyepiece fitted over his right eye, adopting a combat stance. Leading them was a human, decked out in the same blue-and-black armor that she had seen the human soldiers back on Mindoir wearing over a decade ago when she was a child, the same helmet fitted over his head obscuring his face and a large rifle held in his grip, lowered at present as if to indicate he didn't perceive any concurrent threats.

There was something about this lone human soldier. The way he moved and carried himself...she couldn't put her finger on it, but there was just something that causing her to guard to lower and relax around him.

Lowering her weapon ever so slightly, she slowly made her way out from behind cover, making sure to adopt a non-combative posture so as to not alert them.

All eyes landed on her, and when none of them opened fire, she finally knew it was safe to holster her shotgun, placing it on the small of her back and holding it there until the magnetic clasp clicked. Looking between all three of them, who were now all lowering their weapons, her eyes eventually landed solely on the human, who she assumed was the leader given how the krogan and turian seemed to rally on him.

"It's not that I don't appreciate the help," she greeted, adding false confidence to her tone as best she could so the terror filling her wasn't so obvious. She didn't want to seem weak to these people, just in case they weren't as friendly as she was assuming, "But who are you? What do you want?"

The human was careful not to approach her too quickly, but when he reached up and removed his helmet, what she saw didn't help the feeling of familarity and safety she was feeling dissipate...it was strengthening it. The gentle but intense eyes, the cropped black hair...the only thing she didn't recognize was the heavy stubble that lined his jaw.

"I'm Commander Shepard, ma'am," he announced, "We're not here to hurt you. You've got incriminating evidence that can prove Saren Arterius guilty of treason against the Citadel Council, and incriminate him in the attack on Eden Prime. Those mercs tried to kill you for that information...we can protect-"

The feeling of certainty she had upon seeing what he looked like under that helmet had done plenty to convince her of the obvious, no matter how impossible it may have seemed, but upon hearing their name...that was undeniable confirmation. Any fear or remaining nervousness she felt disappeared in an instant, and she gasped, blurting out the first name that came to mind, "Johnny! You're alive!?"

Momentarily confused by the greeting, it didn't take long for realization to dawn on Shepard either. There was only one quarian girl in his life that had known him long enough to call him that, and his confusion yielded to surprise as his eyes widened at her, his turian and krogan comrades looking thoroughly confused by what was unfolding before them, "Tali...? Is that you?"

She rushed forward and wrapped her arms around Shepard, ignoring the bulky armor he was wearing and embracing him tightly as she could. She couldn't believe he was here! Alive, in the flesh! How he survived though wasn't important...she was just glad that he was, and not only that, but coming to her rescue! A small galaxy it must have been for such fortunate circumstances to have come together like this!

Laughing, Shepard pulled away from the ecstatic quarian, holding her at arm's length, "Tali, I had no idea _you_ were the quarian we were searching for. To be honest, I wasn't sure I'd ever see you again. What are you doing here?"

"On my pilgrimage...actually. Surviving assassins...evidently," Tali jokingly replied, hitting him in the shoulder with a balled fist, "It's a really long story. But you're one to talk! How did you...I...I thought you w-were...d-dead! The attack on your planet occurred only six-"

He held a hand to hush her, his face haunted and saddened, "Like you said...it's a really long story. I survived the attack on Mindoir. I'd be happy to tell you the whole story over a drink at Flux, but first I've got to finish what we set out to do here. I'm really glad you're here Tali, but I'm a short time frame, and the evidence you have is something my superiors need to prove Saren guilty."

Nodding, she pulled away from him, now fully conscious of the turian and krogan that was watching them from the side, and wringed her fingers at her waist...a habit she had not managed to kill off, despite the decade or so that had passed since she developed it, "R-right. Of course! I can help you with whatever you're doing...I mean, if you want me. You seem like you've got everything handled, but I know how to handle a gun, and-"

"Of course," he declared immediately, reaching out and grasping her shoulder gently, the same warm smile that had left her blushing all those years past still having the same effect despite all the time that had passed, "Welcome to the team. Shall we?"

"Lead the way, Johnny," she returned, stepping to the side to let him lead the way.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes with a laugh, "Tali, people don't actually call me Johnny anymore. You can just call me John."

Tali just giggled, finding it was now her turn to mischievious, the carnage around her forgotten as she got lost in the joy of this pleasantly unexpected reunion. She remained by his side, joining the krogan and turian, who were introduced as Wrex and Garrus respectively, behind Shepard as they left the alleyway, ready to make history.

"You'll always be Johnny to me."

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_

 _ **This prompt was both daunting and fun to write, I'll be frank. Daunting, because I've never written child characters like this before, and because there was a lot of layers to this prompt that needed to be dealt with to make it work. Fun, because the prompt was simply awesome to write. Writing Tali and Shepard was children was an interesting challenge, and the setting in which I wrote them in only made it that much more challenging. In other words, it was yet another experiment that, at least in my opinion, paid off. Whatever the case, I hope you enjoyed this Omega. :)**_

 _ **I'll be doing the 26th and final snapshot next. Can't wait to show you guys how I plan to end this story. ;)**_

 _ **Until next time,**_

 _ **Keelah se'lai, troopers!**_


	27. Snapshot 26: Flashpoint

_**This prompt was requested by...me! So I guess that makes it less of a request, and more of a personal prompt to myself, to be fair. Like I said, I thought of this a while back whilst writing earlier prompts for Flashpoint, and I thought it'd be a far more fitting conclusion to this story. I've juggled multiple concepts for how to approach this, from speeches to dream sequences, but I eventually landed on this one.**_

* * *

With darkness completing enveloping the sky, the sun's rays finally out of reach of this side of the planet, two and a half of the planet's moons were free to encompass the broad vista that now owned the expanse that surrounded them. At day it wasn't entirely noticeable, or even necessarily comphrensible, but at night, the curvature of the planet was most evident. The stark black sky, splattered with twinkling stars, could no longer obscure this, and anyone who was willing to actually look up and notice would see this for the truth: that they lived on a planet that was spherical. Not flat.

Space was full of these little theoretical conundrums, others more or less obvious than this one. It was what drove others to explore the cosmos, seeking answers to these questions or in order to spread their civilization to whatever free space they could find. This galaxy, not to mention the universe, had plenty of free real estate left to settle on...and the discoveries of new lands and worlds only continued.

He once considered himself one such explorer. A man who had seen the galaxy from one end to another, came into contact with almost every known species, and had made many new discoveries along the way. And with those adventuries came stories, myths, legends that passed from generation to generation...and he carried some of his own as well. It should be said that he carried quite possibly some of the best stories of them all. Because he carried stories about heroes...heroes who saved the galaxy not once, not twice...but thrice. And each time they had done it against all odds, despite the mathematical probabilities of success being so depressingly low that average any gung-ho marine would have lost hope.

But not these heroes. They stared death in the face, undaunted, and pushed towards ultimate victory. It had been costly, and lives had been lost...good people had died, sacrificing themselves for a better tomorrow. But a century later...and their actions were still felt, lauded and thanked. They were still celebrated every year, and monuments to their achievements could be found on almost every planet they had ever blessed with their presence. Every single world they had personally affected had something to say about them...to thank. Even former enemies made room for gratitude in their hearts, and gave credit where it was due. Decades after the fact, and the remembrance remained strong.

Such heroes carried stories of their own: personal tales of suffering, strife, hardship and despair...but also hope, fellowship, courage and self-sacrifice. They had all made their mark on history, and many scholars had dedicated their lives to spreading the truth of their lives to the four corners of the Milky Way. Experts in the field of their selected hero, they chose to focus on one and one only, dissecting their philosophies, their ideology, their beliefs, their part as a cog in the greater machine...and they made sure to document every modicum of detail they could. He was one such man.

But the two people he had chosen to focus on were quite possibly the most important of them all. One man held it all together, while his companion held _him_ together. They were strong, indomitable forces of will on the battlefield, and behind closed doors they were humble, caring and quiet. It was a pairing that seemed only fitting for romance novels on fictional heroes, but these people existed...and their bond had saved civilization itself from extinction. And the stories he told of them were instrumental in helping preserve this image: this image of a man and a woman who were able to save life itself from certain annihilation, but who were also two people willing to do anything to protect their love. It was an inspiring notion, and he could see why most found it appealing to write about, or perhaps even use as a basis to emphasize their own love for another. It was the kind of bond that seemed almost mythical, and would have remained so...

...if he had not personally witnessed it.

His stargazing was sufficiently interrupted by a verbal plea for attention. He sighed faux-exasperatingly, temporariy lost in his thoughts to the point where he had neglected his self-appointed students. Smiling, he shifted one leg to place it ontop of the other, and looked back down at the younglings who craved his attention, bidding him to continue the tall tales that had so engrossed them in what other kids would consider gross, tiresome dialogue that was beneath their notice and unworthy of their precious time.

Those younglings in question were his own children. His wife, currently working, had left the children with him for the day, and instead of choosing to remain locked up inside a house all day, he had thought it a good idea to take them for a walk to a nearby water spring, which was only fourteen kilometers from their house. His five children...two quarian girls, one human girl, and two human boys, were left in varying stages of eagerness to indulge in this adventure, and some even groaned inauspiciously as they were dragged off to what one might have thought was a boring road trip to hear them complain of it. The idea was to have a picnic by the spring and enjoy some much needed time with his children after spending a good two months away from his family entirely.

However, what he had expected was that said trip would turn into storytelling hour. The idea had been merely to spend time with his children...not engage them in his fascination of the individual history of famous celebrities and ancient heroes. His own wife found the topic quite dull, and although the feeling was mutual as far as her job as a finance and extranet business consultant went. His wife tolerated his stories however, just as he tolerated her droning about finance algorithms and strategies for playing the galactic stock market.

However, upon arriving at the picnic here, he had found himself naturally progressing into such tales, and to his surprise, the children were enraptured by it. Kathyrn mostly just sat and listened, while her quarian sisters, Yosu and Sefi, asked the more specific questions. Their human brothers, Jonas and Kyle, the military life on their minds, had questions that were more predictable, and understandable, and ones he was more than happy to answer when and where he could.

He looked back down at them from where he had been perched on a rock since beginning to regale the omnibus of parables to the fascinated group of children, finding that, despite their eager looks, he was running short of stories to tell them. Most of the fascinating ones, the ones that really stood out...he had told them all. Each detail he could remember with startling detail, almost identical to what he had been told, although he'd admit some were spiced up for the sake of embellishment and spectacle. He doubted his kids would remain this interested if they were regurgitated the exact nature of some of these tales, dull or not.

Yosu, the child that had personally attempted to grab his attention, lowered her hand, noticing that her father was now staring straight at her. Unmasked, she smiled as she excitedly bounced up and down where she sat, extracting information from him at a rate only a quarian, or intellectually equal salarian, could match. Nearby, the spring's water continued to rush by, the gentle trickle a taming and relaxing sound to the ears, accompanied by the slight breeze that washed over the land, "Dad...that seems a little unlikely. Nothing I've heard ever mentioned them meeting as children, or that he ever lived on a colony."

Despite only being eleven, Yosu, and her siblings, were sharp. Kathryn most of all, mostly because she had an eye for detail that meant that not a single detail, and every single facet of a story scrutinized. She had been diagnosed with high-functioning autism early in her life, so her own personal adherence to logic above all else was a matter of some frustration to her mother, and amusement to her father, who found her knack for the minute detail endearing and impressive.

Even Jonas was piping up now, "Dad, you made up that whole thing about them dying during the Reaper War, didn't you? This Kai Leng guy never killed her."

Kathryn was quick to add her own two cents, not one to be left out, "And, might I add, her yelling down the Council was, while pretty impressive and cool, not really feasible, dad. The quarian reputation back then was still pretty shaky, and the Council didn't hold them in high regard. She would have been kicked out."

Kyle just chuckled, "I still think the story about him killing those Neo-Nazis was the best. It's like that one episode of Blasto where he shoots up that base full of elcor supremacists. Wait...did you make that one up to?"

Sefi simply snorted, "Boys...always with the violence...I thought that one where he told her his feelings after seven years was beautiful...even if it never happened."

His smile broke into a chuckle, and he held his hands up placatingly, urging the children to halt their righteous crusade before it broke out into open ridicule and fact-stomping, "Okay, okay, okay! Yes, I made some things up...the real stuff would have been boring. It wasn't all...stories...though. That one where he joined his wife in death and accepted his fate? That was true: I have first hand accounts that say it happened. The argument they had over the geth? Almost word for word. And I can tell you, with utmost certainty in my heart, that the conversation they had over killing that Feros civilian was had. I made up a few details to make the stories more interesting...but also to teach you five a lesson."

Yosu raised an eyebrow at that, "A lesson? Dad, what do you learn from made-up stories?"

His smile widened, and he reached out to grasp her shoulder gently, his voice a gentle whisper in the presence of his children, "Stories deserve to have their veracity and integrity maintained. When you start altering facts for your own benefit, the story is lost to myth. How many historical events have occurred in our own histories that have been dismissed because of their improbability? Battles have been ignored or reanalyzed due to numbers being greatly exaggerated or the heroics of certain players within that battle being overemphasized or undermined. I'm a journalist, but my specific job is to verify. _Always_ verify. Fake news is all too common nowadays, and I don't want my kids thinking like mindless drones who just accept whatever news reporter tells you are the facts. _Always_ verify, like I said."

He stood up, hands clasped behind his back as he began to pace back and forth, "I told you these stories to see if you'd pick out which ones were false...and which ones held kernels of true to them. I guess I'm a better father than I thought, since you seemed to pick up on all of them. You've impressed me."

His five children looked up at him with wide-eyed wonder, and then began chatting away amongst themselves. There was the odd giggle, which he smiled at, but the five largely seemed focused on discussing what he had just told them, if the looks thrown his way were any indication. He just smiled, and patiently waited for them to finish whatever they were talking about.

 _In truth, all of my stories had an element of truth of them. Even lies can possess truth, and myths often hold lessons that can be taught in service to the truth. How many fables offer pithy sentiments that have helped us organize our lives? Many even serve as warnings of what not to do...is it fair to ignore them because they were fictional? Or should their underlying message be heeded for the sake of furthering the moral and/or intellectual health of an individual? I suppose that's a lesson for me to teach them another day then..._

Their secretive dialogue concluded, the five children turned to their father, regarded him for a brief second, and then spread back out, returning to their original positions as they had before, all of them smiling and hungry for more information. Kathryn looked particularly demanding, fixing him with a stare that seemed almost like a non-verbal command, "Do you have other stories, dad? Fake and true?"

He wracked his brain for some, as he had been for the past fourteen hours that they had been here, and he found he was once again able to conjure some ones that were of worthy note, ones that need not have been embellished too much for the sake of an extravaganza, as he mentioned before. But as he looked up and once again remembered that night had fallen over the planet, he knew that he had lost track of the time and that they should not have been out for this long. He had fallen for a two-hour picnic...but if his chronometer was to be believed, it had been fourteen hours since he had left the house.

"I know a few. But it's getting dark...we should be heading home."

A chorus of sighs resounded throughout the group of five, but little objection was had. Already beginning to pack up the numerous plates and half-eaten food that was scattered across the small, polka dot red blanket, their father's actions forced them to listen, and they gradually began to follow their example, picking up what items their father had sufficiently missed and placing it in the basket they used.

They were packed within minutes thanks to this, loading them into the trunk of their skycar. He had already gunned the engines and was ready to go when Sefi grabbed his arm, looking up at him pleadingly. He hesitated for a moment as he felt the three-fingered hand grasping his lower arm, and turned to look down at the tiny quarian, who so reminded him of the little Tali from his most recent tale. He had even pictured her as the same, and briefly wondered if his descriptions had been based off what he was told...or if Sefi herself was the basis he had used.

She looked at him, her eyes shining delicately in the nightly dark of the environment, proof that quarians indeed had natural night vision, "Dad, on the way home...can we please get one more story?"

He nodded, hardly seeing a reason as to why he shouldn't, and motioned to the car, "Sure thing, Sefi. You just be comfortable and we'll get going in a minute."

True to his word, a story was had, a father entertaining his children with yet another tale of love between two people. As he always did, his own enjoyment in delivering said story was almost as palatable as their satisfaction in hearing it, and a smile adorned his face the whole time as he steered the vehicle towards home, his children assaulting him with a barrage of questions once he had finished. He tried his best to answer all of them, inquisitive as they were, and they once again impressed him with their level of sophisticated understanding of what was truth, what was lie, and was half-truth. They were not stupid, nor did he expect they were: he had made it his mission and that of his wife to ensure their children were as sharp as whips, and they had not failed in that goal. He was proud of them.

The artillery barrage that were his children's constant interrogations continued even as they landed at the house, and walked through the front door. His wife was waiting, the quarian woman not at all happy at dinner being left to go cold on the table, but satisified once she discovered it was because they were having such a good time. They hugged each other, a respite that helped to alleviate the stress and pain of their exhausting work hours, melting into each other like wax on a candle that had eventually collapsed under the heat. After that, they had eaten, watched some shows on the extranet, and all gone to bed.

All except him.

It's not like he couldn't sleep or anything...normally he could, and would. But tonight was different. Tonight's tall tales and indulgence of old history had reminded him that his profession often forgot to take into account the personal aspects. In all of his stories, he had frequented into the chronicles of the individual, consistently delving into personal experiences. And that's perhaps why these stories were so powerful: they were tales of the heart and personal experience, not second-hand retellings from those who were prone to narrative reconstruction and revisionism. As he said, he deliberately modified the events of some to make them more interesting, and to make a point...but the stories themselves, whilst not particularly enriching to a child or their importance immediately felt or appreciated, were spectacular to him.

They were beautiful. Encouraging, even. They were proof that love found a way, and that it could be a very powerful force indeed. Many mocked this notion, saying it was bred from wanton naivete. But if anything, Tali and John Shepard were a prime example that such a 'ridiculous' notion could hold kernels of truth, and that it wasn't always simply restricted to the annals of mythical fantasy. In a way, even if not directly, love conquered the Reapers...for without it, he doubted they could have had the motivation to truly succeed and emerge victorious.

Perhaps he was a hopeless romantic...or a staunch believer in the power of the emotion to achieve great things. In truth, that was the exact reason he was invested in this field to begin with: he found that emotions were a curious element of the sentient psyche, and he found the profound effect it had on the direction of history to be inspiring. And considering his more personal stake in the matter, all it did was further his own investment in the topic, hence why he had found a job in it. So maybe he was engaged far too deeply in the emotional theatrics of it all, and that's why he was overthinking it too much.

But what truly kept him awake was the source of these stories. The core of their value. The entire reason for them being told to his children, to help them learn...to quicken their pride in their heritage.

Sneaking down from his bedroom upstairs, where his wife slept soundly, practically unconscious the moment her head hit the pillow, he had quickly slipped into a robe, tied it up, and quietly emerged downstairs, heading towards the rear porch. Once there, he stepped outside, fitted into some boots, and walked a dozen meters to the right, towards a large tree leaning over the edge of a cliff, its thick branches almost as thick as his entire body.

His pace lessened as he finally reached the tree, and he found his expression becoming sombre and respectful, hands clasping behind his back as he stood just before the tree, where two large artificial slabs of stone emerged from the ground, standing practically side by side. Behind them were twin, large rectangular indents in the ground, indicative of disturbed ground that had been replaced. He gulped, feeling a chill wash over him as he caught a sudden breeze coming in from the nearby ocean. His expression did not change however, bowing his head as he looked upon the site with some sanctity, regarding it for the sacred site that it was.

"Hey dad...mum," he greeted quietly, almost like he only wanted the objects of his monologue to be the ones to hear of it, "Hope you're doing well...everything's going fine here. Your grandchildren are getting smarter everyday...I think you'd be particularly proud of Kathryn, she's shaping up to be just like her grandmother. Sheere and I are happy at our jobs too, if you're curious."

Silence fell over the area as he regarded the two graves, the names of their inhabitants sacred in his mind and prone to drawing him to sadness every once and a while, wondering if what he needed to say was really all that necessary. They had known what kind of child he was and would be when he grew up, and they had done nothing to stop it...instead, they had encouraged it. They had always encouraged their children to pursue lifestyles and careers that were not in concert with their own whenever possible, mostly because they did not want their kids to live the life they had. Which is why he had made a compromise: instead of following in their experiences, he would document them. Bring their stories to light, give them the attention it deserved. In all actuality, it was they who had told him these stories whenever he asked, and they two had told him said stories in a forum much like that of the one he had used with his children today.

He still remembered the time they had taken him and his siblings to a similar spring, and they had bombarded their parents with requests for stories from their time as war heroes and saviors of the galaxy. Some tales were kept from them, too dark and haunting to be cruelly displaced onto children of their age, especially since they were too young to appreciate. But other tales were told...lighter and friendlier to the juvenile mind. As they got older, it as he who had requested access to their less favourable stories...and he came to know exactly the kind of horrors his parents, who loved him so much, wanted to encourage him to escape.

After all, the life of a war hero isn't all adventure and romance.

Licking his lips, he crouched, resting on his knees as he faced their headstones, fingers reaching up to trace the names on them. He didn't need to utter them aloud, for he would never forget the people who brought him into this world, raised him as their own, and taught him the lessons he needed to survive in this galaxy.

'John B. Shepard, devoted husband and loving father.'

'Tali'Shepard, devoted wife and loving mother.'

Beneath it, their dates of death.

'Died: September 2, 2255.'

His eyes welled with tears, a reaction he had come to expect and dread each time he came here, but one he tried his best to steel himself for. Being the eldest, he had inherited the house after his parents died. Sheere had argued that they not move into it, as it would only remind him of his parents each time, especially with them buried outside it, as was requested in their will. But he didn't want to run the risk of the house being demolished, or someone defacing his parents' headstones, so he had convinced Sheere to allow it, and so they had moved in. Since then, he had made regular visits to pay homage to his deceased parents...and to thank them regularly for the life they afforded him.

"I know I keep saying it..." he muttered, biting back a sob, coughing it away with a closed fist almost as if he was ashamed to show such weakness infront of his parents, "But I'll say it as many times as I need to. Wherever you are...whether it be an afterlife, if that exists, or together on some other plane of existence I can't even fathom...I just want you to know that I'm proud of you both. I'm proud to call myself a Shepard. Your grandchildren are proud to be called Shepard. Your other children are still proud of it. And that pride is only helped by the stories you've told me. Of your deeds, your actions, your love for each other...those stories have inspired entire generations beyond the grave, and that's all thanks to you. I know you hate the praise, dad...and I know you'll probably just selflessly wave it off as you always do mum, but it's true. You didn't just defeat the Reapers...you've birthed a new generation of people who now view the galaxy and our future _very_ differently."

Leaning forward, trying his best to steady his breathing, he kissed each of their headstones, hands holding onto both of them as he would back in the old days when resting a hand on each of their shoulders, "You've been an inspiration. Even now, gone as you are...my kids, _your_ grandkids, are still learning your lessons. That's the magic behind storytelling. The power behind your tales. That's all I wanted you to know, before I go to sleep tonight...I wanted you to know your legacy carries on. And, I think, it'll remain like that forever. Immemorial."

He stood up, still holding their tombstones. He expected to sob. Instead, he smiled, a tear rolling down his cheek, "Your lives were a flashpoint in history. And I'm going to dedicate the rest of my life, as I already have been, to making sure everybody remembers that. Goodnight mum, dad."

He left the silent tombstones, and made his way back to the house, gladdened by the future he had, and the one his children would have.

John and Tali'Shepard may have been gone, but their memories, their stories, lived on...

...a single historical flashpoint, and one the galaxy would cherish for eons to come.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_

 _ **...so what do you guys think? Good or bad ending, you think? Or do you believe it was better to end it with Snapshot 25? Let me know in the review section.**_

 _ **I'll be adding an Afterword after this if you want to see my end thoughts, so I'll see you there for the conclusion of this story.**_

 _ **Until next time,**_

 _ **Keelah se'lai, troopers!**_


	28. Afterword

_I don't even know how to preface this, but what I will say is that this, at least for me, is the end of an era in my writing history on this site. Back in 2012, when my fanfiction experience began with To Survive II, I never would have pictured myself ending up here. To Survive II was intended purely so that I could demonstrate my love for To Survive at the time by writing, what I believed at the time, to be a faithful and natural continuation of its story._

 _Go on, laugh it up. I was young, stupid and had no idea what quality writing was. I thought my shit didn't stink...and to be honest, I really can't comprehend why I ever thought what I wrote was good._

 _Point is, To Survive II had only one good thing result from it: For A Better Tomorrow. For the longest time, that series was my bread and butter on this site. A child I've been nursing since 2013, in fact. Cancelling it was extremely difficult, but because all the more necessary once I realized the scope of it had escaped my ability to make reality. If I could have finished it conclusively, I would have, but my exhaustion with doing a trilogy re-write is what sealed that story's doom. I was sick of rehashing the same old predictable plot. There's no surprise or subverted expectation in rewriting the trilogy, because we already know what's going to happen. It's just novelizing the games._

 _Which is why I wanted to write a post-war story._

 _But I'm getting ahead of myself...Flashpoint started not long after my brief renewal of Holocaust, a little bit after its first cancellation. I was hoping starting a new story where people gave me requests and I wrote them out would allow me to experiment with new styles of writing while also giving me a break from writing FABT. At least, that was the original intent...what actually ended up happening was that it showed me that FABT just wasn't what I wanted to write anymore, and it actually ended up inspiring me to write EQC, so we know what became of that._

 _Flashpoint was indeed an experiment, and a learning experience. Each new prompt challenged me with something new, and I thank you all for providing those challenges. The very first prompt I wrote, "That Damnable Shirt" by Emerald Commander, was a challenge because it forced me to focus on something I consider myself pretty terrible at: dialogue. I'm pretty happy, if not proud, with how I write fight scenes, so prompts like "Do Unto Others..." and bits of "A Bitter Memoriam" were easier for me to do. But dialogue? Argh! Bane of my existence!_

 _However, as Flashpoint has gone along, I think I've personally noticed a gradual increase in the quality of my dialogue, and that's because Snapshot 1 helped form the basis for that improvement. So were these prompts challenging? A lot of them were, yes. Is that a good thing? You bet your ass it is._

 _Another thing Flashpoint did was to get me back to actually focusing on the romance in the Tali/MShep pairing. Holocaust got so lost in all the world-building that the romance was ultimately turned into a side note, and I regret that to this day. Flashpoint: Talimance (come on, it's in the title) is obviously a major course correction for this, as I hope EQC will be. And, with the additional challenge of the prompts mentioned, how I choose to write the romance has also had a chance to grow and improve, and I think this is reflected most prominently in, well, how I write sex scenes. Gone is the gratuitous smut I used to write in FABT...Tali/MShep, at least to me, is meant to be a wholesome, heartfelt pairing, and I want any sex scenes to represent that. You've probably already noticed this in EQC already, actually._

 _Flashpoint is ironic, like I've said. It's a flashpoint in my writing, and a transition from FABT to the new stories I have planned. It was a necessary step for me to take, and I hope you can agree and acknowledge that the changes made to my writing style have ultimately helped me to improve. I'm even making an effort to try and cut down the length of my chapters, even if EQC is lagging in this area._

 _Whatever the case, I now want to take this time to thank you all for the time you've taken in providing me your ideas, reading my interpretation of them, and giving me your thoughts. You've been immensely helpful, and I can only hope that I've been equally helpful in putting your ideas to paper, proverbially speaking. It was a pleasure to write these prompts, even the wackier ones. Your own creativity has inspired me in many ways, and for that, I have you to thank once more._

 _Thank you for the reviews. Thank you for the prompts. Thank you for supporting Flashpoint from start to finish, and thank you for helping pave the way for many more stories to come._

 _May we continue to keep the Talimancing community on this site and beyond alive! There's enough of it to go around!_

 _Looking forward to what the future awaits, and I hope you are too!_

 _Keelah se'lai, troopers!_


End file.
